Kelly Spenhoff

I must have been about 10 years old, shopping with my mom and sisters. “Mom, I promise if you buy this purse for me, it’s the only purse I’ll ever need for the rest of my life!” I meant it. It was white leather, but stiff so it held its boxy shape. The long strap had a buckle, so it could adjust longer when I was bigger.

Fast forward 15 years. 98…99…100. I’m counting my bins of purses outside the storage closet of our apartment. I’d like to display them and I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with. Do I even have room to display all of these? When did I amass this many? I didn’t think there were this many. I suppose that’s the problem with keeping them in bins in a closet.

In the late 90’s it was Beanie Babies. This was the early days of the internet. I’d dial up the website and wait 20 or more minutes for all the latest Beanie Baby pics to load. I’d have to leave the room and find a distraction while I waited to see what was new. What local stores would be getting a shipment soon?

I had so many duplicates of the cocker spaniel. I always said that that toy was to me like Catcher in the Rye was to Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory. I had no choice but to buy every one I saw. Cocker Spaniels had always been my favorite dog and I had a pet one who I loved dearly at the time. I couldn’t bear to leave the Beanie Baby version of him on the shelf!

These days, it’s lip balms and glosses that match my hair color. And zipper pouches. So many zipper pouches. I always buy the cutest Ipsy pouches I see at thrift stores.

I have shrunk down my compulsive shopping habit to something I can justify to myself. It may be the same problem, but now it’s small enough to be cute.

I still see purses I like and adorable stuffed animals, but I don’t feel like I have to bring any of them home with me.

There are some things that I can’t just admire, though. I have to own them. Like a particular sweater at a thrift store that screams my name. Or ceramic birds. When something isn’t just beautiful, but actually feels like me, I have to make it mine.

I still use the question “can I live without it?” to decide if I should buy something. But now I try really hard to answer it honestly. Sometimes it actually works.