Every year when I go to my annual checkup I fill out a questionnaire that asks “how much alcohol do you drink a week.” Now, I find this question about as awkward as “how many days a week do you floss.” I drink a couple of glasses of wine a night and on the weekends it’s no holds barred. That said, I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. I don’t fall over drunk, make out with strangers or wake up in someone else’s bed. I think I am a typical working mom who drinks wine to pass the time and to forget the details of life for a while. Is that so wrong? According to the stupid questionnaire and my tee tolling doctor, more than seven 6 oz. glasses of wine or beer a week is much too much. Have you ever seen six ounces of wine in wine glass? Of course not, bartenders and sommeliers would be fired if they only poured 6 oz. into a glass. For the record 6 oz. is called a “taste.” Who are these people, these arbiters of appropriate wine consumption and teeth flossing? Where do they come from? Obviously they are nobody I know!
The other day I was scanning the web and came upon an online article titled: “Are you a Shopaholic.” Yikes, according to the questionnaire in the article I guess I am. Of course this reminded me of the alcohol questionnaire at my doctor’s office. According to the following questions (and you need to answer “yes” to four of the questions to qualify) I fall smack dab in the belly of the shopaholic zone. I thought I would share with you what I found.
Take this Quiz: Are you a compulsive shopper?
True or False? Evaluate the following statements:
1. When I am feeling depressed, I usually go shopping.
2. I spend a lot of money that I do not have on things that I do not need.
3. I get a rush when I make a purchase, but I “crash” soon afterwards.
4. I have closets full of clothes that I have never worn, and countless gadgets that I have never used.
5. I often feel reckless and out of control when I shop.
6. I lie to my friends and family about how much money I spend.
7. Even though I feel very distraught about my debt, I still shop.
8. I feel emotionally upset and disturbed by my own shopping habits.
9. After a big shopping trip, I sometimes feel disoriented and depressed.
10. My shopping has caused problems in my personal relationships in one way or another.
Did you answer “True” for four or more of the above statements? If so, it is possible that you have a real problem with compulsive shopping.
O.K. so this week’s poll is a wrap. The winner goes to the casual top–62% of you said it’s what you own the most of in your closet. I don’t know about you but the casual top category has been the death of my debit card over the years. Whenever I have a jonesin’ for a polyester pick-me-up what better to feed that urge than a cheap casual top. It’s like a Kit-Kat bar at the checkout counter at the grocery store just screamin’ “take me home, I’m lonely.” It’s a spontaneous decision–the People magazine or the Kit-Kat bar? The Kit-Kat always wins. Don’t get me wrong, I like my People Magazine I just prefer it free at the gym or in the gynocologists office. The casual top for me is often spontaneous because it’s usually cheaper than a sweater or a blouse and it promises so much. It can be playful, outrageous or just plain trashy and it doesn’t take a big chunk out of the budget. This behavior, this spontaneous feel good item for which I imbue so much expectation is exactly what I am aiming to get away from once I’m shopping again. I look at it this way. The casual top is like a gateway drug… it leads to more shopping, more consumption and confusion–expecially if it comes in a print. My motto–just say no to the casual top impulse. Say no to buying without trying, say no to made in China, say no to trendy and say no to anything that looks ten years younger than your age. If it’s not something you are sure you’ll wear at least once a week walk away, take a breath and ask yourself—do I need this? That’s my two cents, or call it five.
Twenty-five years ago I lived in San Francisco with my childhood friend, we will call her Jay. We had parted ways in high school due to my father’s relocation for his job and reconnected after I had graduated from college. “Come live with me in the city,” I begged. She did. 
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