I had an awesome weekend, which was very crucial because I won't lie to you: Adjusting to living in Rochester has been a little rougher than I thought. So this weekend, I headed back to the Cities for a girl's night with Kim, wine and Center Stage on Friday night and on Saturday night, we went to an Oktoberfest party with a bunch of other pals I haven't even seen since our wedding.
But the most revitalizing thing I did all weekend was to hit up the BRAND NEW KATE SPADE STORE! It just opened in Edina at a mall just 1 mile away from my old apartment just weeks after I moved. (I am trying not to take that too personally.)
Going to the Kate Spade store was much like going to Disneyworld. It was bright and beautiful and it had a billion things I wanted to take my picture with. But, much like Disneyworld, there was a massive sticker shock that came when I wanted to get on the rides. And at the end of the day, it was just a little overwhelming.
I peeked into display cases of jewelry, ran my fingers along the pristine clothing and tried out bag after bag commenting to Kim (my shopping buddy) how much I just loved every single one more than the last. I didn't want to leave.
But unlike online shopping for Kate Spade, I couldn't filter out things that would cost me an arm, leg and soul. So I got stuck falling in love over and over again with $50 socks, $500 watches, $700 coats and $900 bags that I knew I would never own. It was rough. I wanted Kim to take my pic in front of the store, but I thought even that would cost me my grocery money for the week.
And then it got super crowded. The checkout lines snaked through the store, full of Edina hockey moms buying a couple of those $900 bags while chatting to a friend on their phone about barre classes and not wearing mismatched socks. I suddenly felt very out of place. The customers and the girls working in the store were all perfectly shiny and pretty and wearing ironed clothes. Shoppers picked out whatever their little heart desired and the girls behind the counter would gently tuck bag after bag into the colorful Kate Spade boxes I put on display at home in our china cabinet.
Then there was me. I had gotten more dressed up to shop at Kate Spade than I did for my own prom. I was clean, had styled my hair and actually had clean, cute clothes on. But inside the bright, beautiful store, everything on me just kind of seemed....dull. I clutched my own Kate Spade bag that I had snagged last year at a sample sale online, fiddled with my Kate Spade necklaces and scrolled through my email on my Kate-Spade-case-protected phone to find a 30% off coupon. It's like I was wearing the right uniform, but I was at the wrong school.
Maybe it was the overly-chipper staff or the non-chalant way that other women were picking out bags without even peeking inside at the price tag or the bright paint and decor inside the store, but I suddenly had the feeling that I needed to buy EVERYTHING in the store to feel like I am in the same league as the other women.
Luckily (or not), my bank card seemed to yell at me from inside my Kate Spade wallet, screaming out reminders to me that I am NOT in that league, but that was okay because MY Kate Spade purchase would not just be another bag in a garage-sized walk-in closet full of designer labels and diamond shoes. These people may have the goods, but they'd never love Kate Spade stuff like I love Kate Spade stuff.
After getting that little lecture from my checking account, I plucked out what was possibly the smallest bag in the store, pulled out my $48 gift card I had from an old return, and flashed my 30% percent coupon before paying about half-price for my newest best friend.
It was such a deal that I went home and ordered a pair of earrings from katespade.com.
Anyway, I loved shopping at the new store and will definitely be going back again and again, even though it made me question my values and doubt my self-worth. But really, doesn't that happen in any love affair?