I
have become a woman obsessed—a woman scorned…by clothes she cannot buy but
desires so. As much as I would like to trace back my steps to how or when I’ve
become this way, clear as day it is
painted across my mind as I lay back in bed enjoying and cursing my currently
NEET life that I desperately need an intervention. Or a detoxification,
whichever is more viable.
When
I was but a mere lonely highschooler, I prided myself for choosing books over
clothes and cannot seem to understand what the big deal is about shopping. In
college, I saw the allure of fast fashion and by the end of my school years, I
began online shopping. But no, I have never dipped my toes in the world of
Instagram shops at this point—not yet.
But
alas, I did and never have I felt more possessed by Becky Bloomwood than when I
am scrolling down my feed and lusting over the vintage dresses, band jackets,
and sailor blouses the shops have to offer. In some warped déjà vu moment, I
recall the time when I was a sophomore in high school, throwing the last of my
savings for the third book in a series I loved. I had been dreadfully,
irrevocably, stupidly broke. And because I am apparently bad at learning
lessons, I am—at the moment—close to being broke.
You
can’t get everything you want, but there are things that are within reach. And
if they were, would it be so wrong to reach them? Is it so sinful to stuff the
hole in my heart with material objects? This is the distorted line of thinking
that at night, I like to philosophically indulge in. There’s pure bliss and
satisfaction in being able to get something you yearn for. But as I would like
to remind myself in my chronic overthinking moments: the elation is only
temporary.
Although
slight doses of euphoria (the figurative kind) never harmed anybody, my
shopping habits are gradually emptying my wallet—or coin purse, if we’re trying
to be really particular. As lost and hollow as I seldom feel, I reckon having
an equally empty coin purse won’t do me any good either.
There isn’t a surefire
solution for anything. It’s always a constant battle within yourself, at least
that’s the way with me. If it helps, maybe we’re in the same boat. Here’s
hoping we know how to swim.
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