As a youngster, I was fond of using full-blown temper tantrums to get my way. One fine day I was on my best behavior while shopping with Mom and Nana. That is, until I got my mitts on a Snuggle Bear stuffed toy I wanted more than life itself. You may not be acquainted with this American fabric softener mascot, but it was the cause of the queen of all tantrums. My Nana wanted to buy it to stop the screaming, but Mother refused to reward bad behavior. That bloody bear haunted me for years, but as Lady Luck would have it, I found one at a yard sale for 50 cents. Deal.
Edinburgh now has a 99p charity shop, and as you have cleverly guessed, yes, everything is 99p. Amazeballs! For a short period in my life, I was able to exercise some form of restraint, but this charity shop has really brought out the greed in me. Curses! I am hopelessly addicted to charity shopping (*singing “Hopelessly Devoted to You” to myself*…why don’t I own a poodle skirt??!).
Please excuse that tangent. Charity shopping is my attempt to be a sensible and money savvy. Charity shops tend to be cheap and take a wee bit of digging about, but finding a good bargain is a natural high. My endorphins and happy hormones just go to town! If forced into the fictional support group ‘Charity Shoppers Anonymous’, I would bring all my cheap and cheerful discoveries into the meetings for fashion show and tell. This is NOT conducive to helping others with a shopping problem. Praise Zeus I do not own a UK credit card.
Candies sandals. I’ve always coveted a pair, but my babysitting pay in the 90’s was never enough to turn that into a reality. Well the times, they are a-changin’! I know I keep going on about this 99p charity shop, but there I found a pair of wooden Candies sandals (practically brand new). It’s the Snuggle Bear all over again. Never mind that its winter and wooden high-heeled sandals don’t mix with Edinburgh’s lovely cobblestone streets.
Last weekend I was stumbling/weaving home from the pub, very unhappy/furious/distraught about the vast distance I had to cover to get back to my flat (10 minutes walk for the sober). I expressed this grief by grunting and groaning the entire way home. There was a slight pause (a good 10 minutes) outside the chippy. Greasy chips sounded like just the ticket, but then I thought about how that dosh could buy 3 items at my favorite charity shop. Mom always said, “Jumpers last longer than chips.” Okay, so she never said that to my knowledge. It’s probably something more along the lines of if you eat too many chips you won’t fit into your jumper.
Speaking of jumpers, my sweater drawer is out of hand. The craft drawer space is being encroached upon, and it makes me anxious. I think people are beginning to notice that I have wool and jumper issues; there has been talk. I say, let the people talk! I wear jumpers all year round!