Ever felt guilty about a risqué purchase or a splurge you perhaps shouldn’t have gone for, but the universe was telling you otherwise? You’re not alone.
With retail advertisements and offers garnering our attention on every corner or with every click, saying no is becoming increasingly difficult.
Nothing is more disheartening than a dose of buyer’s remorse, which is why we explored the lengths the team here at FQ headquarters have gone to in the name of fashion. Particularly as we have just emerged from what is arguably our most spending intensive time of the year – the holidays.
To ensure the accuracy of the confessions, we’ve kept all submissions as ‘anonymous’. We can’t have any partners, spouses or parents finding out about our frivolous fashion fixes, now can we?
Add to… ‘Bucket’?
“I stayed up all night refreshing the Mansur Gavriel website to try and nab one of their in-demand bucket bags – which, at the time, were only being sold online every six months and would sell out in a matter of seconds guaranteed. I went to work with zero sleep the next day but with a MG safely purchased – success!”
Executive decisions
“One of my lowest points in life was the time I had to ring my colleague, who – thankfully – was also one of my friends, to ask her to wire me 10 pounds as I couldn’t afford to top up my Oyster card and I’d got stuck at a tube station halfway between home and work. The reason? I’d bought the Burberry trench coat of my dreams and in doing so, had maxed out my credit card and my overdraft a day before payday. By god it was worth it though.”
But if it’s educational?
Impulse fashion splurges? No. Impulse fashion book splurges. Yes. “I’ve been known to blow a week’s rent on an imported glossy that’d just landed in the country – a hard cover magazine is practically a coffee table book, right?”
Fashion accepts what the bank card declines
“During university I wanted to get on the bandwagon of buying a nice clean crisp shirt to tuck into my jeans. I finally spied one that I fell in love with but it was around the $200 mark. I decided to splash out on it. Not only did my card decline at the till forcing me to a) hastily move cash over from a different account and b) attempt the infamous second swipe, but the shirt had rendered me with no spare cash to buy my art supplies needed for my project. So I headed home – sans art supplies. Safe to say, I did not get a good mark for that assignment!”
Smells like teen “quasi-miraculous” spirit
“Five or six years ago, I was at home late at night a few wines deep reading a UK edition of a magazine profiling an incredible French businesswoman who was like everything I wished to be. She spoke of her signature fragrance, Frederic Malle Carnal Flower, as her “must-have” beauty buy, claiming the first time she smelt the scent as a life changing experience. Deciding this woman and I were obviously kindred spirits, I quickly looked the fragrance up online, translated the description from French into English (which described the mood but not really the way it smelt… something along the lines of “an almost carnal smell, superimposing in a quasi-miraculous way”), I typed in my credit card details and ordered a bottle. When the bank statement came through I nearly fainted. Not only had I not converted the Euros into New Zealand dollars, but I had just spent $500 for a fragrance with no idea as to what it smelt like. Lucky for me it arrived and I adored it and it has been my signature scent ever since.”
All dressed up and nowhere to go
“I bought an Emilia Wickstead full-length pencil skirt that I had to slink into inch by inch, can’t actually walk in and which made me look like a caterpillar. BUT I JUST HAD TO HAVE IT. What makes the whole story even sadder, is fast-forward three years and I no longer fit it and never got to wear it anywhere.”
Because, sartorial emergencies
“For more-or-less ten years from the age of six, I would spend two weeks on, two weeks off with my respective, divorced parents. This meant that I would pack my entire wardrobe and cart in between houses. They tried to have the “why can’t you just have two separate wardrobes” conversation with me but unless they wanted to buy me two of everything, this wasn’t going to fly. My clothes and I are a package deal, get over it. Things escalated in my early teens when, spurred on by watching too many episodes of MTV Cribs, I deemed it completely essential to not only travel with 15 pairs of kitten heels, but 15 shoe boxes too (for Mariah Carey-worthy display purposes, obvi).
I started deeming it completely essential to not only travel with 15 pairs of kitten heels, but 15 shoe boxes too.
They of course got so mashed up from being jammed into the boot time and again that it completely defeated the point, but to Mum and Dad’s credit it was never questioned (at least not to my face). It probably should have been because I now have a severe over-packing issue. I just like to be prepared for any sartorial emergency, okay?”
More ish-shoes than Vogue
“Not sure which is worse… One time I shoved my feet into a pair of Louboutins two sizes too small at a sample sale, got them stuck on my feet in the queue to pay so ended up buying them. Or the time I – again, at the same sample sale – got into such a tizz at said Louboutins not unzipping that I also ended up buying a pair of Acne Pistol boots with two left feet. That was very much a low point in my life.”
Never purge and splurge
“I’d been doing my darnedest to save money for a pending move overseas and hadn’t made one clothing purchase in almost three months. One Saturday I was feeling beat-up and totally under the weather. I was home alone and before I knew it I dropped a massive sum of my savings on six “cool-girl” summer items to get me excited about life. What’s not exciting? Taxes. Almost $400 in them later just to get the items released from customs, they all fitted me poorly and I’ve never worn any of it. Sigh. I had to unfollow the brand on Instagram to stave off the reminder.”
