I am haunted by the ghosts
Of clothes I didn’t buy.
The image of that spectacular
Black dress from Zara
Floats above my bed at night,
Like a dark apparition
Here only to incite night terrors.
And those gray crochet boots from Globus -
Oh why didn’t I buy them?
They could have provided so many cozy days -
Just me and my boots hanging ‘round the house,
So comfortable in our togetherness.
It is as if my shopping addiction has finally
Gotten the better of me,
And I wholeheartedly embrace the sacrifices -
The canceled European weekends,
The periods of starvation,
The self-styled hair,
The lies told to parents -
“I only need a couple hundred,” I tell them,
“to pay the bill for all those times I called you” -
But really I’m eyeing those black suede ankle boots -
Forty percent off at that store near the train station.
Those have been on my mind for awhile now.
But I can live with these spectres -
They remind me to make better choices next time -
Slap down the money for those styles I so desperately need.
And I am comforted by the fact that there are at least
One or two fashions I refuse to wear,
Simply out of slight abhorrence -
There are no ballet flats, for example,
Twirling on the edges of my memory,
Or thin belts that snake their stealthy way into my dreams.
And these are no horrific ghosts of my past
Come to claim my soul -
I gave it to them long ago -
And I will dance with them now
As they laugh and persuade me once more
Into the nearest store, where I might buy -
As credit allows -
That pair of washed-out jeans that has been beckoning -
Slyly calling out my name.
A poem I wrote for a friend who has a serious shopping addiction. :-)