Like most women, I enjoy having nice things. Lately, I've noticed that a lot of my style over the last decade has been quiet, sedate, and DULL. I wanted to spice things up a bit, but finances still are a major factor.
Which is why I'm so very thrilled at what I found tonight. Walking through the thrift store, a bright red leather bag caught my eye. It was beautiful, gorgeous - and behind the counter, which in thrift store language means "major label" and "out-of-your-league-Tricia". I sighed, thinking to myself that it just wasn't going to happen.
I tend to not even ask the price on things stored behind the counter. It's just not worth having the dream crushed. I could see the price tags on some other purses back there - all uglier than the red one - and the lowest price I saw was $70. "Oh well," I thought. "Some woman is going to get very lucky."
When we made it up to the register, Sean asked the lady how much it was. She wandered over and I saw her hand caress the leather, and I just KNEW it was one of those buttery leather products that make you want to sigh in sheer bliss. And then she told us the price. And I thought my ears were deceiving me.
No. That couldn't be right. I must have misheard her. And before I could ask for clarification, my husband said "Let's see it."
It was as buttery as I had imagined, and such a bright red...my heart started to beat hard at the thought of owning something that was so boldly and outrageously feminine. And then I saw the brand on the front and my heart skipped a beat.
PRADA. As in "the devil wears it". As in "a brand Tricia will never ever own in her entire life". I sighed and opened my mouth to tell the woman to put it back, but my husband spoke first.
"Add it to our pile, we're ready to check out."
I'm still in shock. Complete, utter shock. And that shock is starting to be tempered by purely female desire to gloat. I own a prada purse. Me. I wonder if I can convince Sean to let me sleep with it tonight?