FASHION LOVERS ANONYMOUS & the fashion virus by Lady Kamalar
I realised early on in life that there are things I’d have to give up for the sake of my sanity. Things I’d surrender because I know myself and how far I can take things. We all have our limits. And every fashion lover knows someone or has been diagnosed with the almost-terminal strain of the fashion virus. A sickness of epidemic proportions. If you are not aware of it, don’t worry. There is no need for a doctor to spot the symptoms I know that we usually take and speak of things lightly but, this problem speaks volumes about our feelings, of a financial lack, and of emotional, spiritual and personal issues. What is sad is that sometimes some of us fall into the trap while trying to impress and furthermore we go out of our way and end up in uncomfortable situations.
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To Be An Impulsive or Non-Impulsive Buyer? While we know impulsive spending is not good for us we question how nonimpulsive buying can feature negatively in all of this. But even good habits can get rotten. Let me go back to the start where I mentioned having realised that there are certain things I would do best to avoid. Growing up my love for fashion was a little excessive. I had to have everything I liked. It was never a matter of need, as it always is in these matters. I just had to have it no matter how pricey the tag.
even good habits can get rotten Then came the high school and varsity stages. All of a sudden I could get clothing accounts and other things just by being a student. When the time came, like everybody else I proudly opened an Edgars account.
On my first purchase I was fortunate enough to realise that this could get me in a lot of trouble, which is something I didn’t really want for my life. Now, I knew my weakness and recognised the damage it could cause in my life. I noticed by the way I was feeling so pumped up picking out those clothes; the rush they created excited my heart but made my spirit fearful. These were not normal feelings for me as an analyst. The adrenaline rush felt like a drug, and in actuality it was a drug that fuelled the excitement to my sickness and obsession for clothing. As I walked out of that shop with a bag full of clothes and a credit of R200 left from the R1500 voucher they’d given me, it hit me. On the way to my place at the time I realised that there was something wrong with me. My heart was beating fast. I was overcome by the rush of shopping but I was scared as well. I loved all of