Let’s talk about the reality of shopping. Shopping can function as an addiction, torture, a release, a momentary escape, a pick-me-up, or even a reward. It’s many things, there’s a reason the phrase retail therapy exists, but the equation is always pretty much the same – unless you have lots of money, which I do not:
The catalyst that begins a shopping adventure can be pretty much anything: maybe you’re feeling sad, your wardrobe is unappealing, you need a pick me up, you heard of a sale, you’re in a rut, you’re bored, there’s nothing on TV, all your friends have recently acquired new things, your mom’s in town, it’s payday…
The reason doesn’t matter. To be a shopaholic is essentially to understand that you don’t need new things, yet it feels like you do. Sometimes shopping is like finally scratching that itch in the middle of your back only to have another itch pop up elsewhere. Temporary euphoria.
I consider myself a former shopaholic. And I can honestly say that any excuse is a good excuse to buy something shiny … in my case, most likely a new dress.
I say former because I no longer use my credit card on a weekly basis for things I don’t need. However, when I do go shopping, I have the same mindset as I did back when I used shopping as a means to not be stuck at the parents house:
- I shop by myself, I’m not a huge fan of having to care about what looks good on someone else – I’m a selfish shopper. Plus, shopping solo is much more efficient.
- I’m wicked good at finding a sale. My record? A dress for $15 in 10 minutes. Proof that you don’t have to spend all your money to buy something new and pretty.
- I have a strict, “If you don’t absolutely love it, don’t buy it!” policy. Because if you debate even for a moment that you’ll wear whatever it is, odds are it’ll be in the back of your closet for all of eternity.
So while shopping isn’t considered an admirable hobby, at least it got me a great credit score and a closet full of pretty things that are starting to bore me.