I'm severely annoyed with my parents. My eyes are rolling so hard that they're threatening to roll right out of their sockets. My hand is gripping my purse so hard my knuckles are turning white. Finally, they let me go, I turn on my heels and leave them as quickly as I can, fuming all the way. I'm in a terrible mood, but suddenly...
There it is, my little piece of heaven. My sweet, sugarless indulgence: paradise. FOREVER 21 all caps, I'm all smiles. Everything is white, the windows are twinkling, the walls seem to sparkle. I walk inside and the mannequins, adorned in their lovely tresses, seem to smile and welcome me. The store gleams and glows and I ahh and ooh, and immediately my irritation melts away and an intoxicating calm satisfaction takes its place.
Information overload. This is what this is. I'm running my hands through all sorts of colors and fabrics. Blacks and whites and blues and pinks. Velvet, leather, denim, silk. Shoes, shirts, dresses, pants, jackets, underwear, jewelry. Ruffles, flowers, lace, pins.
It's all beautiful and it's all beckoning to me.
I could almost say I'm feeling giddy. I start loading up with clothing to try on. All sorts. My arms grow heavier as I make my way through the store.
I finally make it to the dressing room, and I take a moment to look at the small mountain that I'm straining to hold up.
I try on everything and all the clothing makes me feel pretty and poised and sophisticated and I just want it alllll.
I blow through 130 dollars ten times faster than it took me to make 130 dollars.
Shit.
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