At the tail end of a work week that I'm convinced in my heart of hearts exceeded the usual five day maximum, Simon Doonan of Barney's sends me (well, and every other modern woman and man on the opt-in list) this email. Even without the accompanying little girl, I could have told you this woman was a mom. She has that look on her face... that expression... that energy about her that is only solved/fixed/remedied by shopping.
See the long coat? No doubt she's naked or in her sleepwear under there. Not to be provocative...but because she has little time for such silliness. See the hair? I dare you to try to get a comb through that nest. And yet... with her cat-corner eyeliner, lace-up leather booties, BV handbag and red lipstick she looks every bit as fabulous as she needs to be. Those are tricks only a fashionista mom can master. There's an art to looking pulled together when you're spending all day caring for a little person. You have to know where to cut corners and where to spend your time. Eyeliner, shoes and accessories are the "can't miss" items. And let's be frank, the sales associates don't care if you're wearing last night's jammies so long as that AMEX is working. Mmm'kay?
But let's not overlook the lesson being learned by her adorable little girl (Lourdes? Is that you?). She's learning some very valuable lessons during her day of hookie from her private school. Stressed? Shop. Long week? Bust out that credit card. Shop, dear child. Shop until you can't shop any longer. Shop until the stress of the week is but a blurry memory. Shop until you've purchased "the perfect amount."
What amount is that, the men ask? (Yes, honey... I know you read my blog.) Just a touch too much, that's how much. It's not so much as to require a trip back to return those fabulous goodies (too tacky). And yet not so little as to indicate to yourself that you're not worth it or that you can't afford it (too insulting). Just a tad too much is what we're aiming for here. And it takes a seasoned shopper and a woman aware of her spending power to achieve this magical result at the end of a power shop.
The perfect amount, you see, is just slightly more than you'd intended to spend. This leaves you feeling just slightly rebellious and bad. Naughty, if you will. But not guilty. Never guilty. Indulgent is the word we're looking for here. A girl needs to feel just a wee bit indulgent once in a while to feel alive.
{Editorial note: in the case of this photo here, I suppose the "perfect amount" might just be whatever the maximum bearing load is for this adorable (and agreeable) little girl. Something tells me this isn't her first time being mommy's little pack mule. I can't help but wonder if she's smiling for the camera or smiling because she sees daylight an is about to make a run for it.}
If you can't tell from my post, I'll just come out and say it. It's time for me to do a bit of power shopping. Mommy needs something. Mommy needs something in black quilted caviar leather with a gold chain. And I can't possibly feel guilty, because I can blame the whole thing on Simon's clever appeal to my baser female instincts. Simon made me do it, honey. Simon made me do it. And I don't feel guilty one little tiny bit.
