"Can You Hold My Bags?"

I have a bit of a shopping addiction. It is harmless in the grand scheme of things, but lately I have been feeling the need to correct my behaviour - a boot camp for my credit cards, if you will. I'd call it the first signs of growing up and taking responsibility for myself, but I haven't washed my hair in three consecutive days, so I feel that would be a lie. And I would never lie on the Internet. 

The first place you would assume to look for evidence of this quirk is in my closet (I refuse to use the word 'flaw' in this case. Suede ankle booties could never be a flaw). I try to never deny myself the items I adore and feel I must have, because that moment is rare. I am an extremely selective shopper. Normally I would much rather play real-life Pinterest and create wearable combinations from what I already have. I like to play the dress up game of life on level 12 (12 seems like it'd have a lot of complications and an attack of the Flatform Sandal Monster. Just no, people). 

Seasonal shopping lists contain 4-6 new additions or upgrades, because nobody really, really needs sneaker wedges, a cape and/or fringe anything. There is no challenge in just buying everything coined 'trendy' and neglecting the rest of your closet - you can tell if someone lives only in neutrals or copy and pastes their looks from store mannequins. But I digress, this annoyance is just my 'holier than thou' attitude coming out in full force.

Where the problem really becomes apparent is in the beauty spectrum of things. Coming back to my childhood bedroom I found no less that six eyeshadow palettes. Do you know how many I had used? One, with visible dents in only three of the eyeshadow colours. No matter how many 'pinspirations' or ripped out pages of Cosmopolitan I gather, my lids stay the same shimmery, champagney, beigey shade. I'm trying for a rainbow effect and ending up with 50 Shades of Tame. That isn't fun for anyone.

Bath, body and beauty products are my Achilles heel. I've amassed pots and pots of body butter, litres worth of lotion, every calming/exfoliating/clarifying cleanser/scrub/toner I could get my hands on (that had pretty packaging - presentation is KEY!) and even though I've reached a point of storing extras under my bed, I. Can't. Stop. 

Justifications usually include but by no means are limited to:

I will use this eventually.

Worse comes to worse, I have last minute birthday/thank you presents on hand.

IT WAS ON SALE. Thus invoking a need for 7 bottles of dry shampoo (I have no room for you?!).

I heard really great things about this product (from my curly haired, dry skinned 45 year old hair stylist - completely relevant to 19 year old, oil prone with limp, lifeless haired me.) 

"If you spend another 7$, you get 10% off AND a free sample of (insert something I'll never use)!" 

So you see fair internet readers, there are a million and one reasons I should cut up my store points' card, but I just can't do it. One day when I am living comfortably (knock on wood) I will look back on my preliminary attempts to be on Hoarders and laugh as I'm surrounded by chic minimalism and a foot masseuse who makes house calls on speed dial. Martini in hand, naturally. 

Practicality has never been my strong suit, but isn't it fun to live outlandishly?

All my love and devotion Sephora gift wrapped (free samples included), 

Nicole xo