I had really hoped by succumbing to the inevitable that I would be released from my fashion addiction prison: I finally broke down and bought a pair Seven jeans. This is the way that I looked at it: I have been spending money needlessly on items that I keep hoping will compare or come close to an actual pair of these designer jeans. Finally, I laid down the law with myself: Just a buy a damn pair, already! With my monthly pay-check soon to be cut in half for the summer months I realized that I would not be able to afford them in the near future.
So with a tingle of excitement I marched to my nearest Nordstrom with the sole purpose of walking out with a pair of Sevens. I sort of felt like the spirit of my grandmother was lurking behind the designer denim rack as I chose my selected pair with pride and purpose. Grandma Peggy loved Nordstrom, and every now and then when I walk in and inhale the make-up counters and take in the glorious array of colors and well placed merchandise, I think of my grandmother. The soft lighting may have added to the romance and allure of the second floor, my destination specifically the ‘fashion boutique’ filled with designer couture. Ah, such a far cry from shopping at the Brass Plum, a mere floor up and filled with loud penetrating music, tween girls, and cookie cutter clothing. The dressing rooms were like large walk in closets, each with their own three way mirror. Never in my life have I shopped so quickly and with purpose, (I swear, I was shaking when I handed over my Visa). I pressed my bag to my chest as I walked over to the men’s shirt section where Josh had dropped a ridiculous amount on dress shirts–seriously, two shirts had cost more than my jeans!
When we returned to our car to drop our purchases off, Josh checked his shirts and angrily realized they were not Wash and Wear–damn them! With no time for ironing, the new shirts were lacking. Because he couldn’t face the saleswoman a second time, I re-entered Nordstrom and returned the items for him. Yes, by this time I had slithered into my new jeans–changed into them in the backseat of my car. I marveled in the mirror, briefly, over how great my pockets looked. Sure, they were a hair too long, and, OK, maybe they were getting a little loose and may require a belt…but I was wearing a pair of Sevens! And, yes, I know, everyone is walking around wearing a pair of these expensive jeans, but they really are fantastic and everything I had hoped. Sadly, I found myself searching the web for a capri pair…yes, I know, I thought I would be fine once I bought the jeans. I had really hoped to stave off my lust for Sevens, and the capris are, like, $178! I peeked at EBay, I lingered around the Nordstrom’s website, and I finally disciplined myself and turned the computer off.