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I was originally advised to take up blogging as a way to hone my writing skills and perhaps to serve as a somewhat therapeutic outlet. I don’t know about all that, but blogging has alerted me to a serious developing sickness:

The shopping sickness.

I used to be quite frugal, you know. Still am in many ways. But lately… lately, I just cannot resist buying myself things now and then. Pretty things. Pretty colors, yummy fabrics, happy prints, delicious fit… any one of these qualities will do me in for a little purchase here or there; if more than one of those qualities are combined into one prettily packaged item– my eyes glaze over, all reason goes out the window, and I find myself justifying The Splurge.

People, I don’t know what to say. I have a confession to make:

My parents live near a Tanger outlet now.

There is a Banana Republic outlet store.
And an Ann Taylor outlet store.
And a Coach outlet store.
And I happened to be there during Black Friday, a shopping holiday that used to make me turn up my nose.
Oh, and due to some connections, I had access to a 30% employee discount at Banana Republic. But for this holiday season only.

And people, there’s not much to do when your parents live in a secluded community meant for adults 50 years old and up. Maybe it’s perfectly stimulating and exciting for people in that age range (50 to deathbed), but if you’re under the age of 50 you could die of  boredom! So I went to Tanger outlet. Alone. On Black Friday.

I don’t know what to say. I blew a fuse. The more I grabbed, the more my mind whirred with numbers, and the more I saw I was saving, the more I bought. There was a little voice cheering me on in the back of my mind: you will never get this perfect storm of discounted prices again! This is your chance! Carpe diem! And seize that sequin tank, too!

And then. And then my friend V decided to drive into town to grab lunch with me. I couldn’t keep my big trap shut about the shopping binge I’d just gone on… and it turned out she has a thing for purses and was very intrigued by the Coach outlet… and, well. We went. I shopped twice on Black Friday. I faced it twice. Gladly. Wildly. Gleefully. I was a warrior on the warpath. And I felt euphoric. Did I mention I went there the day before Thanksgiving, too?

Of course… now I’m balancing my checkbook and it’s That Time of the Month again (bills).
I’m still hanging on to the number in my head– the phantom, golden, glorious number I’m holding high like a championship trophy: the amount of money I saved buying everything outlet/Black Friday/employee discount.

I’ve decided to ignore the less attractive number scribbled in blue ink on my checkbook. At least for now.

But y’all. It was fun.

So. much. fun.

But I am so glad to be 7 hours away, again. Tucked into my cozy apartment in Birmingham. With people my own age. Away from the tempting outlet mall.

Maybe a fashion show is in store for my next post(s), eh?

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