A few weeks ago, I had a euphoric shopping experience thanks to a stack of birthday gift cards. Jeans, jewelry, and shoes all found their way back home, but I thought wistfully about how I was unable to snag the elusive pinstriped suit. Why can’t wardrobe classics always be in stock, in my size, and reasonably priced? It would only be practical.
The need for the suit arose because I have to go to a conference for work next week; I usually wear jeans and heels to work, so my selection of real business attire is very limited. As a sort of knee-jerk reaction, I ordered a suit online in the hopes that it would arrive in time and everything would fit perfectly.
Well, it arrived in time. I opened the box, brimming with anticipation, but my face fell when I saw what was inside. The suit was black with thin pinstripes, but the stripes were at least half an inch apart and a sort of brown-gold color, which did not add up to the classic white, thinly spaced pattern I had envisioned. One of my female co-workers remarked, “You should try it on, but the wider stripes make it kind of matronly.” Whoa. Matronly? Then I realized that I would not have even considered the suit if I had seen it in a store. I had to return it and I was not happy about it.
Yesterday, a friend and I took a spontaneous trip to the mall that was spurred by a tip that a shirt I love was on sale for a mere $10. Must go and grab every color in my size! On the way there, I mentioned that I was also on the lookout for a suit. This friend is usually game for my suggestions and we set off energetically.
Once inside the mall, my friend nudged me toward The Limited, asking, “Did you try there yet?” I declined, citing pushy salespeople and oversized pant lengths. But she pointed out the red sale signs and thought it might be worth a try. A quick sweep through the store yielded a black suit with thin blue stripes of varying widths and a cute blue top. Cumulative markdowns let me buy the jacket, pair of pants, top, and dangly earrings for the original cost of the jacket alone. Yes! I had the satisfaction of finding a suit I can use plus the added, thrilling bonus of a fantastic sale. I need to get the pants shortened by about four inches, but that’s an easy alteration that I am absolutely willing to sponsor.
At home, I bragged to JG that, in comparison to all of the items’ original costs, I saved 46%, which was more than $150. Of course, he has yet to understand how spending money saves me anything, but I’m not holding my breath on that one.