Confessions of a (Semi) Shopaholic

It all started as a little girl. I remember going with my Mimi to "Colony Shop" and browsing around for hours. The sweet ladies that ran the shop would offer you a can of chilled soda to refresh you while you shopped, and I remember that being the coolest thing ever.

I remember watching her mix and match, remembering what items were in her closet and what she needed to purchase to match them perfectly. To this day, she is still the only woman I know that can remember the color of something almost exactly and buy a matching accessory without the item being there. She knew what events in her life were coming up and what she needed to buy to be the belle of the ball.

I slowly began to fall in love with clothes. And shoes. And purses. And jewelry.

This realization has always been in the back of my mind, but it has started to resurface because of all the Premier Jewelry parties I have been a part of recently. I am even helping host one tonight. The presenter sets up the jewelry on a table in the center of the room and we are free to roam and try things on and keep them on for the rest of the party.

I am always attracted to the sparkle. If it sparkles or has huge stones on it, I am SO there. My mom always teases me for walking through a store and coming to a complete stop when I see something dazzling. I just can't help it. It's me.

The problem comes, however, when I purchase things based on what I want my life to be or what I think it will be in the future. I am that girl who walks through a store and pictures my life as it would be in those particular clothes. When I walk through Ann Taylor's Loft, for example, I picture myself in a power suit, heels and carrying a large fancy purse to a tall skyscraper building where I write for a popular magazine. In Lady Foot Locker, I see myself wearing a cute little jogging suit, running 10 miles a day (see how this is an unrealistic sickness that needs to be handled pronto?) I would like to say that the imagining just stops at daydreaming, but unfortunately I have taken the next step and purchased items that would aid my impractical future life.

Here are a few times where my future-life radar was way off, and my pocketbook suffered:

1. The faux fur coat-- Why I purchased a white fur coat a few years ago is beyond me. I think, in this particular case, I was picturing myself going to an opera in New York or a Broadway show. Surprisingly, "Wicked" isn't playing in Searcy and so I ended up having to wear it to the Homecoming musical freshman year. A little boy petted me through the entire play in between scoldings from his father. The only other time this wardrobe disaster made an appearance was during a YouTube video made during finals week one year in which I played a rat monster.

2. 9-inch red high heels-- Okay, so maybe 9 inches is a slight exaggeration, but these suckers were HIGH. The inspiration behind this waste of money was a country song titled--yes, you guessed it--"Red High Heels." Little country artist Kellie Pickler declares that she is going to buy these heels and strut her stuff around to make her ex jealous. Post break-up a few years ago, I too, felt that red high heels would heal my wounds and wearing them to where my ex worked would somehow make him want to take me back. Imagine my disappointment when watching an already 5'9" girl tromp in like a clown on stilts did not immediately elicit deep remorse and a beg fest to get me back. Instead, I was left with intense toe pain and was too concerned with not falling that I'm sure all attractiveness was lost.

3. The velvet blazer-- My roommate STILL gives me grief about this purchase. I don't know if, in the store that day, I was feeling upset that I was too young to enjoy the 90's grunge look or what, but I actually purchased a black velvet blazer. It had two black jewels on the cuffs and puffy shoulders. Michael Jackson could have come over and borrowed this and made a video.

4. The rocker look-- I hate to admit that this was a recent purchase that I still currently sport from time to time. I think every girl, no matter how sweet, has an inner rocker that wants to be released. I recall asking my father for an electric guitar one year and was met with this response: "No, you don't even practice your flute!" What Dad didn't realize is that flutists don't have fans screaming out their name; they don't strain their vocal chords and crowd surf. They play sonatas that people fall asleep to. I say all this to admit that I recently bought a British t-shirt that has a London phone booth on it and I wear it with a black, fitted vest. I wear a dangling chain necklace and I feel like I should go on tour every time I put it on.

Pondering this topic often makes me wonder if-- instead of being a shopaholic-- I am an adventure seeker who is not spreading her wings. Maybe trying on clothes and pretending I'm at an opera is my way saying, "Ashton, go to an opera!" Maybe instead of wearing rocker clothes, I should chill out more often. Maybe I shouldn't say, "This outfit would be perfect for a night out on the town" and actually go out for a night on the town.

I am young, I am free, and I hope to say at the end of my life, that my closet was more empty and my life was more full. Live life to the fullest, everyone!