Step one: Browse websites with cute clothes. Step two: Buy cute clothes from website with the press of a button. Step three: Wait a few days. Step four: Profit. And by profit, I mean a package at your doorstep with goodies.
Sometimes I like to act like I didn’t expect a package and that I really just got a care package from … Amazon? “Oh, how did this happen?” I ask myself.
I do this to throw off my roommates, because they have already told me I am in need of an intervention. I have an online shopping addiction.
Online shopping is essentially buying yourself presents without leaving your apartment and having them shipped directly to your door a week later (hopefully with free shipping on a $50 or more purchase). It’s the ultimate treat yo’self. It’s sending a care package to yourself with cute new clothes or other miscellaneous things you didn’t know you needed.
A whale-shaped tea strainer?
An infinity scarf that also can be worn as a dress?
We all have impulse purchases we regret, but a complicated return policy forces us to learn to love it.
The typical experience
Log on to the online destination of choice. Lately, for me, it’s been Red Dress Boutique, which is basically a magical Taylor Swift wonderland of polka dots and mint. Scroll through the selections like it’s a Pinterest board. Add things to my cart at whim — just like when I’m shopping at the grocery store before I’ve had dinner and I’m dropping Cheez-Its and giant tubs of Ben & Jerry’s into my cart without thinking twice.
This continues on for a while, with intermittent thoughts of “Wish I was is 5-foot-7 and a size small.” After either 20 minutes or two hours, check the “cart” tab, laugh, and close out the window.
Online shopping is always a bit of a gamble because clothes might fit weird or be a slightly different color upon arrival and, honestly, that makes it really stressful.
The alternative is actually getting dressed and walking around Fashion Valley Mall for an afternoon.
I’ll take the potential for getting a turquoise item instead of my preference of teal if it means I can spend hundreds of dollars without leaving my couch and “Friends” playing in the background. Really, what more could a girl want?
Online shopping at places such as Forever 21 makes me feel less like I’m holding onto my tween years and more like a responsible adult for spending $50 to get free shipping. It’s much better to order online than brave the bad EDM music and awkward 16-year-olds. Seriously though — why do we, as a generation, keep shopping at Forever 21? I may be 21, but unfortunately this sweatshop-crafted dress won’t last forever, and it’s probably already last season. I regret this top, but it was only $13.80.
Shopping used to be my cardio, but with my recent addiction, all I have is a shirt from Victoria’s Secret to make that claim for me.
But that’s fine. I don’t need to wear that shirt in public because I don’t need the world to know how basic I am, and I especially don’t need the world to know I’ve swapped out my only exercise for couch surfing with my laptop.
Whatever, treat yo’self.