30 days ago, I got so excited about the
long-lost fact suddenly jumping out from the dreams locked away in an old box
up in the attic: ‘The sun is shining through the windows and this is the day I
can reload that magic mirror that has bumped the words out of my mind as a
pleasant stream on the misty moor towards the watching eyes of the land of
fantasy for many years: Yes, I can write again.’
A day after that gently burning buzz in my
tummy I woke and my baby with a warm temple curled up in my arms, seeking that
very special love of his mum. Praise God he is better now, weighing less by
loosing his baby fat over the cough syrups and antibiotics, but we are very
happy to have his cheerful cheeks back and that very special look in his
wonderfully blue eyes. Life is so wonderful.
Getting back on the shoes: they came from
thousands miles all the way from London,
were stored in The House with The Garden for a couple of years and after here
in the cellar and finally they have found a new home. I gave them away to a
lovely friend. And I got a new pair of boots and shoes that fit and comfi and have
all the things shoes has to and the ones
I had weren’t. I bought those at the beginning of my breakdown in the whirlwind
of trying to have matching shoes to all my clothes. They weren’t really my
style, weren’t really comfi and weren’t representing anything I was hoping one
day they would, apart from remembering me of that large dept I used to have and
that wasn’t why I got them on the first place.
I used to think I would not buy anything,
as I had so many things from the time of shopping addiction, but I recycled
about 20 sacks of clothes by giving them away, and so on. I kept those I like
and still wear. I had a ‘romantically sustainable’ idea in 2010 I believe that
I would not buy anything any more, just use those clothes I already had. But after
4 years I simply needed the feeling of having something new. New shoes and
jeans for sure, as my old ones as my husband put it were: ‘Untenable.’ meaning
looking old, extremely worn and far from sophisticated. I even went shopping on
the Glamour Days with my sister-in-law and returned home like Carrie from Sex
and the City with bags and bags. How nice feeling it was to buy something I
needed, not just because I wanted a quick fix on my wounded soul. And of course
it was a very different ballgame shopping as a mum: somehow grown-up. Whatever
it means!
I remember having a discussion with my MA
course leader about the buzz of shopping once, but at that time I had no
intention to understand what she meant by the need of it. Now, I know after 4
years of not buying anything and after only buying what I needed by this
experience I can honestly say: I can grasp the essence of her very meaningful
words in relation to the very important science of consumer behaviour.
