The Grass is Always Greener

I was reading on Pretty Face about the 'shopping guilt'. I experienced this terrible aliment for quite some time now. Where as in the past exchanging or getting a refund on a purchase was a rare occurrence, these days about 50% of what I buy I end up taking back. This is mainly due to the new thrifty necessity of purchasing rationally. That mad Topshop dash at 9pm after work no longer blends into my wardrobe but rather glows furiously on the bank statements. Do I really need it? How often will I wear it? How much do I really like it? are all questions that haunt me as I stare with horror at the hole in my finances. Sadly, when being truthful you realise that wanting something is different to needing it, and the frantic search for crumpled receipts begins, to return the offending items.

Such a case occurred recently, after the seemingly sensible purchase of some summer sandals. With London temperatures soaring, the sweaty tube demanded that my feet be released from boots into something cooler so I bought accordingly. Then, days later a monsoon descended upon the city leaving me staring at the so called neccessary sandals.




No, they were now rendered useless! Rather than keeping the air circulating they would only serve as rain traps. I took them back to Office and spent a considerable amount of time trying on alternative pairs. I got terribly stressed trying to sort out the shoes I would get most wear out of, between those that I actually liked. The poor sales boy in the Carnaby St. store made a comment on the number of times he had to go up and down the stairs to fetch fresh pairs in different sizes (I'm in between 6 and 7- awkward). It got to the point where I was sat with a pool of mix matching shoes at my feet, still none the wiser of what I wanted; the sales guy said that often women come in and try 30 pairs on and don't by anything, he wasn't saying that I was like that, just that it was annoying. He then went on to wage a bet, he would give me £1 if I bought the most recent pair he fetched, if I didn't buy them I would owe him £1. I agreed and luckily the next pair seemed a good match.
I bought them and the sales boy shiftily dropped two 50ps into my bag as I left the shop- I told him not to bother but he insisted! Unfortunately when I got home I changed my mind again, the style is too smart for one with a job that does not require smart dress. I didn't dare return to Carnaby Street and swapped them for some boots at the Commercial Street store...

Are we getting more indecisive or simply more thrifty? I decided to wear the newest boots to Tesco immediately as the marked soles will prevent me getting any more exchanging ideas.