Confessions of a Shopaholic
(Note: this entry has nothing at all to do with the movie of the same name. Sorry, Google searchers, nothing to see here…)
I know it’s the shortest month of the year, but seriously, February, are you STILL here? Do you need a ride to the station? Can I help you carry your bags?
This time, my frustration with The Month That Won’t End has nothing to do with being locked out of cars, or finding myself in possession of more than one head or anything like that. No, it’s all about the shopping. See, I promised myself I’d try to spend less on clothes and shoes, and actually, for the most part this month, I’ve come good on my promise. I mean, there was that bikini I suddenly needed to buy right at the start of the month, and the ill-fated work-out clothes which didn’t see the light of day until last week, but even so, people, even so. I mean, I haven’t bought a single pair of shoes this month AT ALL (thank God I bought three pairs last month, thank God, I say) and that’s saying a LOT for me.
But I can take no more. The closer it gets to pay-day, the more eaten up with the thought of shopping I become. The more I start to feel that if I don’t go forth and shop RIGHT NOW, I will surely shrivel up and die.
So I bought yet another little black dress. Of course I did. This one is very basic and versatile, though, and I will wear it all the time. Like, for lounging around the house in:
For using my stability ball in:
For washing the dishes in a really blurry way in:
And for dusting in:
So, yes, a totally versatile purchase which I will wear EVERYWHERE, and as Becky Bloomwood herself says, I will be known as The Girl in the Black Dress. Which, let’s face it, will make a change from me being known as The Girl Who Keeps Buying Black Dresses Even Although She Already Has Dozens of Them Which She Never Wears. Because that’s just nowhere near as catchy, you know?