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That was me, this afternoon, waiting for the ever glamourous N train to Queens.
It really wasn’t my fault.
I just want to be very clear about that fact. I have a disorder. And no one has been able to diagnose it! I had to diagnose myself over twitter, by accident, and then realize the diagnosis happened thanks to @Everyday_Runway. No really! I’m not kidding!
It’s Post Traumatic Shopping Disorder. It pops up when you least expect it: It can happen after a 9am Saturday morning dentist appointment. It can happen after a long day week at work. It can happen after a telephone conversation with your grandma ends in “When are you going to finally bring home a boyfriend?????” And it almost always rears it’s ugly head right after pay day. And most likely when summer starts it’s descent into fall and you can’t help but stroll around New York City because is there any place more gorgeous than NYC in autumn?
Well.
My catalyst was that 9am dentist appointment, for which I was 10 minutes late (what? I was listening to K-Ci & JoJo). I found myself thrown out onto E. 56th and 3rd and thought, well, after all that, you at least deserve some chocolate! And then the beautiful and hopeful idea of chocolate turned into devious looking cavaties way too eager to get into my mouth. So then I thought, Well, after all that, AND that horrific cartoon, you at least deserve some shoes. And by “some shoes”, apparently I meant these.
[Nine West Ambitious Pump, Black Suede : shop]
And… these
Then, I found myself inexplicably drawn into H&M;, where I found myself inexplicably purchasing a fierce little black dress with an exposed silver zipper! And then, I found myself at my favorite eyebrow place in Astoria saying “yes please!” when she asked if I’d like the massage too! And I almost fell into my favorite nail salon for a little mani/pedi, but I was magically restored back to good sense and promptly rushed home and locked myself in my house, where I believe I am safe from more incredulous spending.
Please, take this as a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Post Traumatic Shopping Disorder is a serious matter. Don’t let this happen to you.
