In the mood to shop this week, I decided to make an end-of-summer visit to a few of my favorite stores. Ever the romantic when it comes to shopping--and life--I set out partly to check out what was new and mostly to follow up on those items I had at one point carried a torch for.
Riffling through the sale racks (for better or for worse, it seems to be prime sale time right now), I soon found myself face-to-face with my summer '07 object of desire no. 1: a pretty blue silk dress that I had tried on a month ago, which was quite flattering on, but which I couldn't justify buying at the time. There it was. Just the one. And in my size. Hemming and hawing, I held it up to me, as I had on several previous occasions, and looked in a nearby mirror. I imagined all the fabulous events I could wear it to. But then the doubts started to fill my mind. Maybe I didn't want it that badly after all. Had its moment passed? Or had I changed and wanted something different? I followed my gut feeling, my hesitation, and put it back. Like Deanie driving away down that dusty road after seeing Bud, his pregnant wife and their farm house (good ol' Splendor in the Grass--so tragic, so true), I parted ways one final time from my once-beloved dress, with no regrets, and slowly made my way down the rack.
Moving on and across town, I visited a decor shop that usually is filled with goods from floor to ceiling, but it seemed on the sparse side today. Of course, a large weathered-wood-framed mirror that I was fond of was still among the offerings. It was marked down.
"Only 12 Saturdays until Christmas," I heard the store owner say from behind the counter to a couple buying a vase. As the couple expressed their disbelief and dismay, the store owner simply stated, "I'm a retailer. I gotta know."
As a customer, I was grateful for the insight. The mirror started to look awfully sell-so-we-can-get-the-new-Christmas-merch-in to me. Guess it just wasn't meant to be.
