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retail_therapyYou are either a shopping chromosome or not. There is no gray. When you are a shopper, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for that serotonin rush that accompanies a new Nordstrom shopping bag. Making an indent into the flesh of your fingers, it engraves a mark of success right above the first knuckle. It doesn’t matter how heavy the bag is, when asked if you needed help, it would be followed by a “are you crazy” look, “this is my treasure.”

An out of the closet shopper, today I am on my best behavior. My girls asked me to go shopping because they had money to spend before we went away on vacation. Besides, how could they pack if they didn’t have a new outfit or two to stow away? I on the other hand, need to enroll in an anti-retail class. When I buy, I continue to buy, so my best strategy is to abstain. SNLIS will be the name of my new group, shoppers no longer living in sin. As a result of abstaining, I am sitting outside the shoe department in Nordstrom, writing, observing, and patiently waiting for my daughters to return.

It isn’t difficult for me to understand why women shop. I love the colors, the fabrics, and the different styles. It is a sport, and you need to do homework to stay on top of the game. How are you supposed to know what is in style, if you aren’t current with your style? Today I had the chance to observe, similar to an animal in a cage at a zoo, watching the peculiar behavior of those passing by.

“Mom” one little boy yelled as his mother pulled his hand, traveling at lightening speed as her three-year-old son was lifted off the ground.

“Why do you always have to look? You never buy anything.”

“I just want to peek honey, just peek” as she made her way over to the Clinique counter.

Another women sat next to me with a puss on her face, clearly a nonshopper. When her ride approached, the woman who had been shopping noticed the glare and quickly began talking while trying to catch her breath.

“Can you believe I went to three stores in fifteen minutes?”

I wanted to top the story, but didn’t dare.

The woman glared back.

“Look, don’t be mad, instead of working my normal 60 hours this week (here comes the justifying part,)  I will only have 55, sorry.”

Another woman went by with her daughter. The young girl was sporting a new pair of shoes, and feeling very happy about it. Her mother on the other hand, had a different agenda.

“How much did they cost?”

“I don’t remember” her daughter answered...smart girl.

So, I decided that today was a great learning experience watching myself from behind the glass. The next time I had the desire to spend money, I would sit right here on the Nordstrom therapy sofa and view the world from a different perspective, unless of course I got a view of a pair of shoes that were just too good to pass up.

For more work by me, please visit Thought I Was Perfect.


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