Confessions of a (Fat) Shopoholic

Oh the joy of consumable goods!

He who said: “Money cannot buy happiness“, obviously hasn’t discovered SHOPPING yet!

Every time I walk into a store filled with beautiful, shiny, overpriced things – the more useless the better – my heart elates. That feeling HAS to be happiness…it just has to!

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I’m embarrassed to say but my step honestly feels light as I touch the beautiful cashmere cardigans in berry shades this winter season, the wasabi green fox fur coat is soooooooo luxurious and funky – oooh and that blingy top with the silver strands and glass beads – MUST have!

My head spins at the smells of genuine leather mixed with expensive unpronounceable perfume from the gorgeous, shiny tester bottles. For some people the head spinning would be a sign of being “unwell” or ill…For me it’s a feeling of intense pleasure and comfort.

I REALLY wish I could flip a switch and be more “down to earth” and be content with smaller, cheaper gifts. Ok, wait a minute, tinier gifts DO make me feel content – but not REALLY happy – not the way the latest Prada camouflage bag or little blue box with the female name on it starting with a “T” can make me.

I’ve been wondering about this a lot lately – why am I this way? I would never voluntarily describe myself as materialistic – but then again who would, right? And isn’t denial the first step to being guilty? Truth is every time I try to be all homely and satisfied with less, it’s a farce. Self-acceptance is really hard sometimes.

Is it my upbringing maybe – coming from a background of “have-nots” or rather “not-being-allowed-to-have-muches”? My parents, as non-white South Africans, were heavily affected by the Apartheid era. They were held back against their will and robbed of all their luxury and pride. Could it be that because I spent my entire childhood in this deprived era as well – not being exposed to brand names and overseas fashion – that this created this “monster” that I am today? Much like a wild lion finally let out of its cage.

Or is it the really the media that has my visa card on permanent swipe? The words of that  song springs to mind;

I am a weapon of massive consumption, it’s not my fault – it’s how I’m programmed to function
— Lilly Allen

 TV and glossy magazines DO have a way of making things look glamorous and sexy, don’t they? I mean ARE leggings really sexy? Of course I own several pairs, but ARE they really sexy? I personally don’t think so – but then again Glamour, Vogue and Fashion TV all say otherwise.

And my rational brain is always knocked out in the first round by my impulse.

Some find happiness in sitting at the beach listening to the waves or by making daisy necklaces on a field.

Me, I will continue to wander down the aisles, with a dazed and slightly dizzy look – admiring, touching, smelling and conjuring up images in my mind of how that sweater, jeans or scarf is going to spectacularly transform my life into something magical and beautiful.