Lessons of a Shopaholic Part 2: Days 1-14 in Shopping Rehab

Day 1:
Found the strength to fold up, bag, and set aside most of the previous day's outlet finds. Also assembled half of my last J.Crew order and a few other assorted items from various stores. Set up a neat little pile of shopping bags in the living room to remind myself to return them at the next opportunity.

Day 2:
Sought out support. Starting a week earlier, I saw that some of my shopping buddies -- including some fellow J.Crew Aficionadas -- were "trying to quit" too. Slastena was one of the first, and she motivated at least a few others on her blog. This gave me a boost of conviction. I thought, if we all encourage each other, maybe we can all pull through together. I announced it officially, calling it my "shopping fast." I planned to finally do what I had tried for years but failed: I would give up shopping for Lent. Surely, God himself would help me with such a worthwhile cause.

So pleased was I with my decision to quit shopping (at least for Lent) that I even found the courage to confess it to my better half. "Wow," he responded cautiously, "That's great news. I think it's a wonderful idea." He had, after all, been burned many times by such failed promises in the past. But I assured him, "I'm giving it up for Lent." Perhaps the knowledge that I was doing it for God rather than just for him or for myself gave me a shred of added credibility. If I could stop shopping for 40 days, there was hope that I may one day cure my obsessiveness and even return to healthy shopping habits in the future.

In the famous words of Confucius, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Had I not already undertaken two important steps on the road to shopaholic recovery? First, I recognized that I had a problem, and then, I sought help.

Day 3:
Plotted the first stage of a sell-a-thon of the "unnecessary" contents in my closet. I have to say that I found this more painful than my usual pre-holiday sell-off on eBay (to buy presents). I mean, I had given away dozens of boxfulls of clothes, shoes, and accessories to friends, relatives, and charities in previous months (about triple what I normally donate each year), and any additional unwanted items quickly found themselves on the J.Crew Aficionada Great Weekly Exchange to be sold or traded and hastily and sent off to a better home.

Thus I found it rather difficult to go into my closet and select stuff that I actually liked and didn't want to part with but was only selling because I needed the money. But for the purposes of parting with them graciously, I reluctantly deemed them "unnecessary" compared to the items I'd get clinically depressed about if I gave away. Despite these parting pains, I forged onward with the sell-off. It was for a good cause, after all. It gave me great satisfaction to add up each $20, $50, and $100 and subtract it from my current credit card balance. It also had the unexpected perk of taking up a good deal of my time -- an annoyance no doubt, but time nonetheless that would normally be spent trolling the web for sales and new goodies to acquire.

The subsequent steps, however, would prove to be more difficult that I imagined.

Days 4-8:
Work to the rescue! I toiled from the wee hours of the morning to late at night, barely surviving on limited sleep and small rations of caffeinated beverages. On the road constantly and meeting with clients daily, taking care of business meant no time for shopping. No time to even think about shopping. Took advantage of the workaholic vibe by neglecting to bring up any catalogs that had collected on the counter from the past days.

Day 9:
Pummeled by a major snowstorm. Expected 8 inches and actually got it -- even in my town which rarely gets hit by the region's severe weather. Clients finally left and I (thankfully) didn't have any meetings. Which was good, because just about everything in D.C. shut down. Even Alexandria City schools, which never shut down. Goes without saying that my office was closed.

Wasn't off the hook for work, however. Still put in a full 10-hour day at home, continuing to finish the previous days' projects by deadline. Tried not to think about shopping. So tired, I abstained from reading the new J.Crew catalog that had come in the mail and was already waiting on my bedside table (thanks, dear!).

Day 10:
"I can resist everything but temptation," quipped Oscar Wilde. Truly, temptation is the linchpin that proves to be the undoing of many recovering addicts. But how to resist the ever-present siren call of things to buy at must-buy prices?

Homebound due to the still-present snow and now widespread ice, stayed home since hubby took my car to work. Finally finished the massive workload and ended the workday at normal hours. Decided to leaf through a few of the enticing new catalogs that had flooded the mailbox and were piling up on the counter.

Also opened up the multiple envelopes from stores that had streamed in over the past week. Uh oh... Fished out coupon after coupon from my absolute favorite stores. First my DSW rewards (free money!), then the Boden catalogue with its bewitching models (and equally bewitching 15% off).

Sat back down to finally catch up on my personal emails. Bad idea! Opened message after message containing such dangerous offers as 30% off at Cole Haan (a much anticipated one for me as I had found during my latest multi-day hoofing that I desperately needed more Nike Air dress shoes), $15 off at Piperlime, 25% off at Gap, plus freebies from Nine West, Macy's, and more. "So far so good, I assured myself. Nothing to go crazy about here. I'm sure Cole Haan will have another 30% one day..."

Day 11:
Had a relapse.

The day started with the arrival of the holy grail of coupons in the mail, ushering in a new level of anxiety: 25% off anything at Coach. Oh, the agony! Oh, the torture! Oh the moral dilemma! How could I resist the new Parker collection when it's priced so well and is just the perfect thing for my work and personal needs? How could I not take advantage of a solid 25% off the exquisite new trenches in mouthwatering colors that I had been watching so carefully? My blood pressure skyrocketed as I dared to tempt fate by going to the Coach website to take a small peek.

Youch! Shouldn't have done that. Now I would be obsessing for the next week straight. Good thing the coupon didn't start for another 2 days. Maybe that would give me some time to calm down and gather my senses. Decided to get out of the house on my first day with the car back. Obviously, being housebound for the last 2 days wasn't doing my willpower any favors.

Ran out to finally return the pile of bags that had sat uncollected on my living room floor. Had to hit J.Crew, Coach, DSW, and TJ Maxx. This would be the ultimate test -- could I, a recovering addict with just 10 days under my belt, survive a trip to the lion's den? Only one way to find out.

First stop: J.Crew. Rushed over to a different J.Crew, far, far away. Knew that if I went to my J.Crew on the day that my manager was working, I wouldn't stand a chance. Made a beeline for the cash register, averted my eyes from the amazingly arranged tables, and successfully returned the goods. Phew!

DSW: Nothing new, and I didn't really want to take the time to check out the clearance section. Stood in line for a long time and finally got rid of the oversized bag I'd been holding.

Next stop: Coach outlet. All I can say is, thank goodness this wasn't the real thing. If it was, I would have broken down and bought something, because that coupon was burning a hole in my pocket (I mean Coach purse). Fortunately, the outlet hadn't gotten anything new in since my last fateful visit, and much of the previous stuff had been cleaned out. Felt much better about not buying anything. Did a half-hearted tour of the store before marching up to the register and laying out my returns on the counter. Managed some feeble story about having just bought 2 bags at the Coach store for full price. The associates asked me how I liked the new Parker collection. Saw stars in my eyes for a moment as I dreamed silently about the new Parker bag on my wish list. Replied with a polite "It's amazing! What gorgeous designs!" and ran out of the store as soon as I signed the return slip.

Last stop of the day: TJ Maxx. Either it was the heady scent of blossoms drifting toward me from all the new spring bath products, or, the emporium of cheap thrills that called out to me from the pleasingly jumbled racks. Whatever it was, my defenses broke down. Of all the places to fall of the wagon, this seemed absurdly unlikely. And yet, I could resist neither the myriad candy-colored treats nor the heaping shelves of luscious floral scents. I sprung for a lovely vat of pink peony hand soap and a hot pink hoodie to match.

As soon as I got home that evening, my better half inspected my packages. "You fell off the wagon, didn't you?" he interrogated me, seeing the conspicuous Coach J.Crew shopping bags.

"No," I implored, "Those are empty. I was just returning." But the look on my face must have given away my guilt, because he made me unpack each shopping bag "just in case." Out fell the hoodie and the hand soap.

"You fell off the wagon for soap?" he challenged. "That's really pathetic!" I knew that already. But now, I felt like a recovering alcoholic desperately trying to get my fix through rubbing alcohol--ashamed, but too desperate to care.

He continued, "I'm willing to overlook your temporary lapse in judgement. If you return these tomorrow, they won't count against you."

"Um, okay...." I trailed off, not knowing if going back to the store that caused my downfall was such a good idea. Went to bed that night questioning my ability to resist serious temptation when I couldn't even resist peony hand soap.

Day 12:
Took the day off work, and so did my hubby. We slept in a little, had good coffee, and savored the mid-day sun in my sunroom/office. Then, for reasons that logic cannot explained, the following words were heard exiting DH's mouth: "Let's go to the mall."

Come again? This was, after all, a man who avoided the mall at all costs, making me buy all his clothing, shoes, and even his video games oftentimes. I checked his head for a fever but all seemed normal.

"I want to look at electronics. And we can grab lunch afterwards," he offered. "Oh, and I want to make sure you make good on yesterday's indiscretions and return those items." Well, okay then - no argument from me!

So off we went, making the rounds to all said places. I even convinced him to stop into J.Crew to meet the "family." After a very late lunch, we wandered around like high school mall rats playing hooky. It felt quite exhilarating and naughty. The mood must have gotten to him too, because he suggested that we make a detour past Vickies on our way out.

"You could definitely use some new underwear," he declared, clearly showing off that he had actually read my recent post on the subject. Again, no argument from me. I pranced delightedly through the store examining various specimens of lingerie in delicate silks and high-tech materials. Finally, I settled on 3 pairs of lacy hiphuggers in dainty shades of pink and coral.

Score! The rewards of not shopping had finally kicked in. I got free lunch (though not a particularly appealing one at the food court), a day of browsing, and a sexy present! I vowed to stay on the wagon in the hopes of procuring more gratuitous gifts.

Days 13-14:
The effects of taking one day off piled up on my desk and inbox. Spent the next 2 days catching up on work.

Wondered what the next week had in store for me...