On Thursday, I met a friend for lunch at Little Tokyo (I've actually begun to branch out. I got the gyoza and tempura obento lunch, not just gyoza, edamame, and rice!), and then we headed for Northpark Mall. We were originally going to visit the art museum, but I worried that I wouldn't have time to enjoy it and still make it back home in time to put booger down for his nap. (Plus, their newest exhibit doesn't technically open until Saturday, and I'd rather go back and see that, once it's installed.)
Anyhoo, we were walking around Northpark, and I saw it from afar. It was a GORGEOUS, deep-V-neck, cinched-waisted black dress coat. It was hung on a mannequin, and it was even making the crappy dress they had underneath it look good. Now, do I need a black dress coat? No. But the force of the universe drew me to this coat. I crossed the mall, went straight to the rack that held the coats, and tried one on. And I loved it. And I looked fabulous in it. Kinda like a cross between Doris Day and Trinity from The Matrix. I felt sexy, my figure looked great in it, and it was just a great piece of clothing. It was retailing for about $160.
Now, I don't need to tell you that, as a stay-at-home-mom, I balked at the idea of paying $160 for a coat I don't need. And I haven't bought much, apparel-wise, for myself since booger was born anyway. (I already have a closet full of business clothes that I'm hardly wearing.) But I knew that if I didn't buy this coat, it would haunt me forever. (I have almost composed poems before about cute, strappy sandals that I loved, didn't buy, and never ever saw again. Sad but true.)
So I bought the coat. It was one of the more expensive impulse buys of my life. But you know what? That coat was so damn amazing that my friend bought one, too. Sometimes, you just have to take life's little gifts where you find them.
As soon as it gets the slightest bit cold, watch out, world.