You’re in a financially challenging period of your life where shopping is not on the agenda. One night on your way home from the theatre you think it is a good idea to go window shopping, as looking and dreaming don’t cost anything, and just looking at pretty things is sure to improve your mood.
Then you see them — the perfect pair of shoes that just makes your shoe loving heart sing. Never mind that you really should buy a proper pair of running shoes from Løplabbet if you actually had the money to go shopping, as you current pair gives you sore knees. Never mind that you are not in the position to buy any new shoes at all. The perfect shoes are calling out you name and you feel weak at your knees.
A few days later you are in town to run some errands and somehow you once again end up eyeing the perfect shoes in the window, only now the store is open. You slowly open the door and walk in, pick up the shoes and study them up close and personal, loving the fabric and their weightlessness. Before you know what is going on, you are approaching the sales assistant, asking to try on your size. By trying them on, you have reached the point of no return. The shoes feel even better on than you can imagine — it feels like you are walking on air (as intended by the manufacturer), as if you are wearing an ultra-chic hybrid of Missoni and Nike down the runway. You air walk over to the counter and miraculously produce a credit card.
By the time you arrive home you are hit by a major case of buyer’s remorse. You check the receipt — no refund allowed, only exchanges. The shame of having splurged on the shoes makes you not want to put them on. Two weeks later, the shoes are still lying unworn in their bright red box, as if they are mocking you for having bought them.
Done is done. The bad spell needs to be broken.
Today, the shoes are going for their first spin around town. I’ll make sure that I don’t pass any shop windows on my walk. Especially Yme’s.