Shopping and the wonder that is shopping.

A delightful, and entertaing post from one of the guest contributors, who is always up for a glass (or a bottle of wine). To be fair, there are few people of my acquaintance who do not enjoy a wee tipple. God I'm old. did I just say that?

But. While I enjoy the wine (and oh, I do enjoy the wine) it doesn't last. Except for the 3 day hangovers which have started appearing since I reached my mid-twenties. And the empties that make me embarrassed to put out my recycling. And the memories...Bells and Caza, shut up. I know what you are thinking.

Shopping is a whole 'nother kettle of fish. You get something for your money that you can take home and admire and then, four hours later suffer buyers remorse over. You get to have a wardrobe full of shoes you never wear, a plethora of black pants, and 18 different eyeshadows.

Of which, of course, you might wear 3.

Some days, I just feel the need to shop. Not necessarily even spend money. I'm slowly coming to grips with the fact I am not going to marry a millionare who will pay off all my debt. Which means curbing my spending. Except for handbags. Handbags don't count. Or shoes. Or cosmetics. Or jewellery. Or books.

I'm like a magpie. If it is bright, or shiny, I'm probably going to want it. I like colours and textures and pretty pretty things.

So, I often walk to or (and sometimes and) fro from work along Lambton Quay, which must have about the most shoe stores in 100m radius anywhere in New Zealand. It is painful somedays as I look longingly at the things I can't afford. But knowing they are there at all is enough. And things are better when you wait for them - and save for them. Apparently. I wouldn't know.

What can I say? I have a problem. I'm dealing with it.

In the meantime, wanna go shopping?