Anyone else freaking the fuck out about money? Oh hi there! Thanks for coming!
So look: Shopping isn’t happening right now. Which is actually probably great in some ways, because the present moment is teaching us just how little we actually *need*. I, for example, have recently taken stock of my not-inconsiderable shoe wardrobe, and discovered that I wear exactly three of the pairs I own. Two of those are pairs of Birkenstocks, and of those two pairs of Birkenstocks, one is a pair of Birkenstocks that my dog is hell-bent on eating, with astonishingly successful results. Never, ever again in my life – and this is a promise that I feel very comfortable making – will I wear four-inch leopard-print stilettos. That ship has sailed, my friends.
Pour one out for the leopard-print stilettos.
But it’s my birthday in a couple of days – whee, I know – and so I decided that it’d be ok to buy myself a little something. I thought about it. I pondered. I percolated. I considered a rainbow enamel ring or two, or maybe that Byredo hair perfume that beauty editors are always getting weird about.
Do you know what I bought myself, in the end?
A cordless handheld vacuum (on sale), two pairs of slouchy socks, and a fire extinguishing aerosol spray. And I cannot fucking WAIT for them to arrive.
If you want to get on this World’s Boringest Shopper train with me, here are a few more small treats that I can enthusiastically, unequivocally, capital-R Recommend.
