Day 9: It’s the middle of the afternoon yesterday when Bobby sends me a link. More recently he’s been known to do this followed by a “Buy this” comment. Today’s message started with “your new car” and a link to a 2011 BMW 5 Series in a lovely blue metallic color. Our conversation was the following:
Me: That’s pretty, but I think it’s too big lol
Him: Thats what she said =)
Me: I’m going to stop talking to u soon
Me: u send me shopping links and corny jokes -___-”
Him: but you’re the queen of corny jokes
Him: this is not that much bigger than your 3 series i think
Him: it just looks bigger
My legacy love of my life e46 sedan (2005) currently measures ~176″, where as the current model of the f10 sedan (2010-present) measures ~192″. The devil is in the details. In this case it ‘looks’ bigger because it is bigger. I imagine myself in this new car trying to find parking on San Francisco streets, only to get frustrated, call friends to tell them I am giving up to go back home to the suburbs. The suburbs, land of abundant parking, where squeezing in between two driveways is not a necessity.
This conversation lead me to thinking about experts. I’m not sure if other people do this, but for every shopping activity I have a friend, or a couple of friends, that serve as my personal tastemakers. It is only these people that can really inspire purchases.
Becoming an empath (oops, expert) is simple. These people have inadvertently “sold” me on something. While exalting the details of their latest acquisition, comes an intricate story of both their thought process and the details of what got them hooked. At the end of their tale, I fully understand why this item should be coveted, even if it’s something I don’t desire.
For me, my experts are able to consistently internalize my requirements, point out the details, and combine that with their superior knowledge of the space. These tastemakers unfailingly return with suggestions I adore. They are the people who endulge me, as I send selfies from fitting rooms to help confirm or deny a hasty decision.
These are my shopping experts:
Fashion— Patricia, Emily
Geekery— Regina, Patricia, Emily
Tech + Cars + Home Improvements— Henry, Sam, Nick
Fashion + Home Decor— Kumi, Patricia
eBay— Emily, Brian
Makeup — Patricia, YouTube (Yup, I learned how to do makeup a couple years ago via From Head to Toe on YouTube no less, not ashamed at all)
Later last night, I ended up playing/strategizing about Clash of Clans with coworkers. In their latest 6.56.1 update they have introduced Clan Wars. Am mesmerized by their tagline “Wage Epic Battles”, as anything that is epic will usually illicit a burning blaze of passion from within.
I desperately want to level up my base with In-App purchases to hold my own in this game. The will to win continues to test my commitment to non-necessity shopping. I fight my last free battle and decide to turn to the computer instead.
Via the facebooks I notice Instyle has an article on a new genius jean invention. Hello what? Instyle, you’ve figured out the word combination keys to my heart. I dash over there to read about Joe Jeans stain-resistant white denim. “Spotless,” they call them. Quickly, I imagine a television commercial with a tall lanky albino model, decked out in white going for a walk with a fleet of dalmatians whilst avoiding possible mishaps. A cheeky slogan plays at the end, something like “Spots can now be reserved for dogs.”
This morning I get a mailer that makes me cringe with anguish. Fab.com has a Friends and Family promotion of 20% off all purchases. I check the dates, but this ends far before my freedom of May 13th . I click over anyway to see 4 items calling to me from a previously abandoned shopping cart.
“Save us!” they wail.
I know I don’t need these things. I just want them, a lot. I have increased longing because they are temporarily discounted. And with a heavy heart I decide to leave them for a second time in cart exile and head into work.