So I’ve made the executive decision not to go to the release of the Versace for H&M collection tomorrow. One reason is because tomorrow is Saturday. Saturday means a hangover, greasy pizza, and college football, not fighting with thousands of other desperate fashionistas over the last studded leather dress – probably not even in my size. But the main reason is because I live with my boyfriend.
Shopping when you’re single is very different than when you’re in a relationship. When I lived with three other girls, whenever I went shopping, I’d arrive back at the apartment in an excited huff, my arms laden with bags full of goodies. I would spill my pile of new clothes onto my bed and roll in it, like it was a pile of hundred dollar bills. Then I’d put on an impromptu fashion show for my roommates. I’m assuming all girls do this.
But those days are over. Now, I shop exclusively on the internet. I receive the packages while my boyfriend is at work, open them, try on the garments, then squirrel them away at the back of my closet. I wait weeks, if not months to wear a purchase, because he will inevitably ask if it’s new. “This? No, I’ve had this forever. You’ve really never seen me in this?” Or I wear my new clothes during the day, with time to photograph them for the blog, then change into jeans and a sweatshirt by the time my boyfriend gets home, relying on the fact that he doesn’t read my blog anyway. My bf recently asked me if I had heard of women hiding new pairs of shoes around the house and revealing them one by one, so their husbands didn’t know they’d gone on a shopping spree. “Um… yeah there are, like, four pairs in my closet right now? And a silk ballgown.”
Please tell me I’m not alone.