“Don’t be duped by sales; they are
like mermaids who seduce and drag you to the bottom of the sea.” Anna Dello
Russo
It was the best of times, it was the
worst of times. I’m speaking, of course, about that iconic moment in any fashionista’s
life, that ritual that is more holy and more sweet than dipping burned and
blistered feet in pools of blessed water…I’m speaking of SHOPPING!
Like a moth to the flame, I have been
drawn to shopping centers since the tender age of ‘Mommy can I PLEASE come with
you to get the groceries, I will sit in the trolley and not touch anything I
promise!’ Of course that was never the case. If I was taken with, I would spot
any and every possible little twinkling trinket like a magpie with x-ray
vision! My mother banned me from grocery shopping at age 5. Poor me, poor me,
till the day I started to make my own money.
I grew up in a very poor family and my
parents didn’t have the money to buy us toys or new clothes or sweets on a
weekly basis like so many other children I knew. I lived in hand-me-downs
(often from my brothers as I was taller than my big sister) and played in the
garden with nature as my playthings. But once a month, my Dad would take one of
us kids for a special ‘outing’ of quality time with him. There were 6 of us, so
I got to go on my outing with Dad twice a year. This outing included a trip to
Wimpey where I was allowed a Banana Boat, and then a trip to the shops with MONEY
to spend! First it was R1 and I could buy any toy I wanted with it. It became R5
and then R10 by the time I turned 13 and the outings stopped, but I remember
being so excited all those years, clutching my money in one hand, Dad’s hand in
the other, and scouting for the very best ‘buy’ I could find. It was sheer joy.
And SALES! Wow. Well that’s just one notch
up! Finding that pair of dove grey knee high rounded toe pearl skin boots at
Nine West ON SALE in my size brings all those childhood memories rushing back
of Daddy taking me on a sugar high to buy a toy just for me! I mean, I like mermaids too, so if I’m going to be
dragged to the bottom of the ocean, what a way to go right?!
To this day I get a sense of euphoria
every time I walk into a shop. I find it so much fun just to be there. With or without money, I love looking and seeing
and (yes, also) touching everything. It’s no wonder I became a sales rep and
spent 6 years of my adult life working in those shopping centers, rushing from
one to the next to the next, day in day out, building displays and setting up
my products in places where they were in most danger of being purchased. I know
the inside of a shopping center like the back of my hand – they just make sense
to me. Put me on the street and I loose my direction all the time, but if you
drop me in the middle of a brand new shopping center, no matter where, I will
be able to find my way around instantly. (Husband gets horribly lost even in
the same centers we go to all the time!)
So I know this is a problem for me, or
so my maxed out credit card keeps telling me, but still, I love it. I just love
shopping. No matter what for. Even a trip to the grocery store fills me with
irrational glee. We need light-bulbs and garden hose? No problem! I’ll go
SHOPPING! We need sugar and toilet paper? No worries – I’ll go SHOPPING! What’s
that, Husband? You need shaving cream and socks? Allow me. I’ll go SHOPPING!
Cat food? I’ll go…
Love, lust and fairy-star-dust
Cherry Blossom
