I’ve always loved wearing the latest fashions. I love the reaction I get from friends when I wear a new outfit and I love looking in the mirror and seeing a stylish woman.
It doesn’t matter whether the latest fashion is thigh-high boots or thongs, low-cut jeans or mini-skirts — I’ll buy them all. My wardrobe is full of outfits I wore for one season and haven’t touched since. There’s nothing wrong with them except they were last year’s fashions.
Being a fashionista is an addiction, just like gambling or drinking. Finding the perfect outfit gives me an adrenalin rush. It makes me feel confident and attractive, like I could achieve anything.
But like any addiction, it’s expensive to support. My marketing job paid well, so I could afford to buy anything I wanted but last year the company folded and I was out of work. It took three months to find another job and when I did, the pay was much less.
Money became tight. After rent, food and other essentials, there was none left over for clothes or accessories. I learned to hunt for bargains and shop only during sales but the simple truth was I didn’t have enough money to feed my shopping habit. I couldn’t even repay the minimum on my credit cards.
With the week-long Spring Racing Carnival looming, I needed at least two new outfits. I borrowed one dress from a friend and made a hat myself using materials from a craft store but still it wasn’t enough. I needed that special outfit — the one perfect ensemble that had that “wow” factor.
I became more desperate when I learned the Marketing Director for a major promotions company would be in the same marquee as me on Melbourne Cup Day. First impressions counted and I wanted to impress him with my confidence and fresh attitude. To do that, I needed the right outfit.
But no matter how much I shopped, how many bargain stores I rummaged through, I couldn’t find anything. As Melbourne Cup Day drew closer, I became more desperate. I begged my friends for money but they all refused, saying I wouldn’t be able to repay them or I spent too much on clothes already.
Walking past a boutique shop one day, I spotted exactly what I’d been looking for — a turquoise knee-length dress with a delicate gold pattern embroidered through it. It would go beautifully with a pair of gold shoes I already owned. As I saw it, I’d be saving on the shoes!
But the price was too high. No way could I find that amount of money in just two days. That night, all I could think about was the dress and how it would look great on me. I couldn’t sleep and by morning I’d decided I had to have it — no matter what.
So I did something I’d never done before. The next day I entered the shop and began browsing, just like any other customer. The sales assistant smiled at me but I couldn’t smile back. My heart stopped beating and my stomach did somersaults. When she turned her head to speak to another customer, I saw my chance and took it.
I quickly stuffed the dress into my oversized bag and walked as casually as I could out the door. Then I ran all the way home.
With a calming cup of tea in hand, I laid the dress out on my bed and stared at it. It wasn’t as pretty as it looked in the boutique window. In fact, I hated it. I couldn’t bring myself to try it on. I wanted it out of my sight. It wasn’t until much later that I realised my reaction to the dress was probably due to guilt.
I did go to the Melbourne Cup but I wore an outfit I already had. I spent a lot of time talking to the Marketing Director but he didn’t have a job opening at that time. He has my resume so I’m still hopeful.
I returned the dress by leaving it in a bag outside the shop just before opening time but to this day, I can’t walk past the boutique without an attack of guilt. I still love the latest fashions but now I get my fix by flicking through magazines and limiting my purchases to one new outfit per season. And the bargain stores love me!
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