Confessions of a Shopaholic. First Entry.

So I have been requested by a number of my friends and family to create a blog. To essentially provide them with a regular giggle or anecdote, so here goes. I feel it only proper to start my tales with a topic upon which I would consider myself well-seasoned. An expert really. Shopping. I KNOW the ins and outs. I have LIVED the ins and outs. I worked in retail establishments for years, and also, unfortunately, continue to frequent them. It summons the Call of the Wild in me. The thrill of the chase. The thought that I am going to “beat all those retailers” and truly find the best deal. Find THE coveted object for less than anyone else...to coin the phrase, “only you know how little you paid!” The idea of buying such a treasured jewel at a store such as Winners or a thrift shop can instill a feeling of owning the ultimate possession that only YOU (and a few CHOSEN others) have discovered. The fact that it is “so last year” or really not on the "A list" bares little to no matter in cases such as these. It is the thrill of the chase.

One memory that I must share happened on my honeymoon, many moons ago in Sienna, Italy. My new husband Eric and I had found our way to this charming outdoor market on the outskirts of town. It was a kaleidoscope of beautiful fabrics and colours – beautifully tailored jackets and funky tops – you name it. As I rounded the corner of one of the stalls, I saw her. The goddess of all handbags laying atop of its lesser cousins – like the princess and the pea atop her many mattresses. The only obstacle to obtaining my desired possession was this svelte serious woman who kept gently picking it up, laying it across her undeserving frame, and then placing it gently back atop the heap. I played the tiger in the Serengeti tactic…stealthily gliding along watching my prey and the other predator just waiting to make my move. It was just a matter of time. Eric could see that I was slowly falling into a trance, and that my eyes were glazing over as I took in my prize. “What’s the matter?” He chimed, somewhat breaking my spell. “Oh nothing…don’t worry, I have this under control. See that beautiful bag? I am just waiting until she leaves it alone.” “HUH!? He offered, obviously oblivious to the rules of the game. “Finders keepers losers weepers!!” At that instant he plunged forward in a disastrous heap, arms and fingers outstretched in a wild, desperate looking pose. The whole thing was lightning fast. Like a mouse being thwacked in a mousetrap. As his inexperienced hand went for the bag, and he actually started to elevate it. She singed him with her eyes. “I am taakeeng zat!” Cold. Abrupt. Decisive. He did not move. He formed no words or comeback. He knew better. Now that her decision had been validated, she trotted off with my prize. Had I not been in shock, I would have grabbed that snooty ponytail and swung her around by it.

The balance of the afternoon is a bit of a blur. I remember it being rather chilly (or perhaps it was just me summoning all of my powers not to haul off and pummel my newly beloved). What resulted was a rather nice jacket and two “2^nd best” apology bags that were meant to make it all better. This all happened in September 2001, just 12 years ago, so thank goodness I have gotten over it...