I’m sitting here knee-deep in my own neuroses, so I thought I’d let you tag along. If nothing else, it’s proof that you’re not the craziest person you know, which can be incredibly gratifying.
Longtime readers will remember a certain Eileen Fisher linen tee for which I fell madly, deeply, head over heels in love. So much so, in fact, that I’m even beginning not to see its flaws (just one flaw, really, which pretty much boils down to the $128 pricetag). It’s light, drapes perfectly, breathes, hides lumps and bumps…it’s literally the only shirt I want to wear when it’s monstrously hot outside. And I was thinking yesterday – hey, I should buy one of these in black or navy, since I wear it so much. Money well spent, right?
So, I started my usual online hunt, thinking I might track one down on sale. Which I did! $66, plus an additional 25% off, in fact (seriously, if you’re in the market, move fast). Total SMC victory, right? Except – ah, there’s always a catch in these cases – I can only get it in graphite (a dark charcoal grey). And herein lies the sale addict’s worst nightmare. Because remember what I was actually looking for? Black or navy. And charcoal grey is all well and good, but it’s definitely a runner-up to black and navy, wouldn’t you agree?
But! The price!
Ever the bargain hunter, I ordered the sale version, telling myself it didn’t matter, that graphite was close enough to black. And besides! The price! And then proceeded to spend the rest of the night trying to ignore the voice in my head telling me to cancel the order and buy the one I actually wanted at full price.
This is exactly what I was talking about earlier this year, friends – letting my smarter, saner self prevail, while simultaneously keeping my closet lighter and full of pieces I love. But being willing to buy at full price is so much easier when the sale version in a very similar hue isn’t winking and showing a little leg just down the hall.
What do you do when the sale monster tries to force you to compromise, friends? Do you give in? Or do you hold out for what you really wanted? (Wow, that got a little existential for a Monday morning, didn’t it?)