Urge to splurge and do my duty
YOU may think that you know your columnist, dear reader. You may imagine that when I’m not writing I spend my time playing the lute, annotating opera scores, admiring Etruscan murals and composing hexameters. Alas, you have me wrong. I might occasionally brush up against a Shakespearean sonnet, but given the choice I adore nothing more than a good old shop.
I love a meander through racks and rails. I thoroughly enjoy rifling through garments, finding an irresistible bargain, sifting through the chaff to find the wheat. I am a recreational shopper. I do it for fun. Everything about the smell of the perfume counter, the whir of the escalator, the thrill of the hunt and the rustling tissue paper tucked around the spanking new acquisition soothes and satisfies my soul.
My dad was in the underwear business.We needed people to trek out and buy what used to be called “negligee sets”. If they settled for another season wearing the old one then we – as he constantly pointed out – were in a “no holiday this year, have to give the rented TV back” situation. So I was raised to believe that purchasing was my civic duty.
DURING lockdown I have chronically missed shopping. It’s not, of course, that I need anything. It’s the process I ache for – walking through those highly polished doors into a world of wonderment. Gazing at handbags I’d never use and couldn’t afford. Picking up a pair of bejewelled boots and putting them reverentially back in their stand. Wondering about a giant pair of hoop earrings: Should I? Could I?
I crave the imaginary journeys we embark upon with every potential purchase. Where would I wear it? If I were to be seated between George and Amal Clooney at an imaginary banquet would the rich emerald of this taffeta extravaganza bring out the shamrock hue of my eyes?
Shopping is about dreaming, hope and adventure. Its magic is so potent you don’t have to buy a thing to feel buoyed-up and brim-full when you get home. Boris Johnson wants us to “shop with confidence”. We’re being given carte blanche to splash out without guilt. To the question: “Vanessa, why are you snapping up stilettoes with sequinned strawberries on the toes, when you’re not going anywhere?” comes my answer: “Because I am a phenomenally fabulous citizen and I love them.” See you in the queue.