Shopping SOS
I don’t know why I’ve been so spaced out recently but it’s obvious that I’m not on my game shopping-wise. First off, I totally missed the Beauty Event at Neiman’s. I went today and realized that the promotion had ended, and instead of ordering online like I should have earlier this week, I lazily put it off till I could go to the store. Well, duh! Now, it wasn’t that great of a promotion; the bag wasn’t particularly cute and the samples, I’ve found, have gotten less and less interesting over the years. But I guess it’s the pack rat in me that always feels compelled to get the gift with purchase regardless of how useful it may or may not be. It’s free stuff; who can say no to that? Besides, I leave all the samples and $1 finds from the office beauty sale (another weakness — how can I stop when things cost a buck and there’s a 10-item limit? Of course you have to buy 10. I just remind myself it’s all for charity.) in a big shopping bag (or two) in my foyer so all visitors to my apartment can get a parting gift. It’s like the treasure chest at the dentist’s office, only the stuff doesn’t rot your teeth; it does, however, also make you have to return.
On this same trip to the mall (really, the only game in town in Dallas is shopping) I was at the new Nordstrom at NorthPark, which I’m pleased to report is probably one of their nicest stores, chock full of designer goodies. One such goodie was the new Louboutin espadrille that my sister has and I desperately want. The store had one last pair — and it was in my size. And in black to boot. It was fate! I tried them on, realized they were beyond cute, . . . then hemmed and hawed and decided that the left shoe didn’t fit quite right. It was just a little tight.
Now, any other time I would have thrown caution to the wind and told myself, “What’s a little foot pain anyway?” Had I not learned the phrase, “Tais toi et soit belle” at my mother’s knee? (Literally translated from the French, that means “Shut up and be beautiful.”) Of course the minute I left the store I felt wracked with non-buyer’s remorse. What if the salesman was right, if no other store in town was carrying this style? (Indeed Neiman’s didn’t have it, and they are listed as “pre-order” on saks.com. That could mean waiting till June for all I know!) What if I would never find it again? What if, were I to phone him up first thing this morning once the store opened, he told me that that last pair that I had had in my grasp was now gone, in the hands (or rather, on the feet) of another more decisive than I?
Ack! Open! Open! Open! Open! Open! Open…
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