I wasn’t having the best day so I grabbed my keys and drove into the village because what I really needed was some therapy; retail therapy.
After a very rainy day yesterday, today was warm and fresh and shiny.
As soon as I walked into one of my favorite consignment shops, I spied a box of scarves and hats thrown haphazardly on each other like a pile of puppies.
My eyes were drawn to a familiar brown and tan monogram on a scarf. I thought to myself, “it can’t possibly be authentic, but let’s take a closer look.” I picked it up. Hmmm, it sort of felt like silk. I checked the price tag. $12.00. TWELVE DOLLARS? It can’t be a real Louis Vuitton. Or could it?
I asked the salesperson, “Has this been authenticated?” She told me the owner didn’t think it was real so it wasn’t priced as a genuine designer.
YES I WILL HAVE THIS, I told myself. Just then, my bad mood cleared up. I was firing on all cylinders.
One of my hidden talents is the ability to sniff out authenticity.
When I got home, I examined it more closely. The monogram was accurate, it was beautifully sewn, and I found a hidden tag that confirmed my suspicions- 100% soie Made in France. Yup, deffo genuine LV. SCORE!!!!!!
I also tried on an amazing St. John’s knit dress that I really really wanted, but even at resale prices, it was a bit too expensive, above my reluctant price point, so I reluctantly put it back.
As I was meandering through the aisles, I spied a wall display. Draped over the shoulder of a red sweater was an oversized black and white houndstooth scarf. My eagle eye spied the logo in the corner: DIOR.
Hold on, girl. Acting like it’s not a big deal so that no one else would want it…I grabbed it off the hanger–the original sales tag was still attached. It was 100% cashmere Christian Dior!!! And it was $20.00. TWENTY DOLLARS! How could I say no? This beautiful shawl-like wrap needed to be rescued. By me.
Instead of continuing to dwell on anything negative or sad, these little treasures helped to cheer me up–perhaps merely a superficial bandage, but sometimes that’s all it takes to shake me out of a despondent mood.
And that’s why it’s called retail therapy, which for me, is just as uplifting as an hour sitting on a sofa chatting to a mental health professional.
