Atticus and I were trying to kill time today waiting for registration to open at his biology conference so we ducked into a Mall aka Temple of Avarice.
When we got inside, I noticed Atticus struggling to take off his poofy, bulky, triple-layered hand-me-down coat that’s at least two sizes too big. Then, the feeeeeeeling hit me.
The feeeeeeeling only hits me very, very rarely and during moments when I realize that there’s a real-life, honest investment to be made in the personal clothing department. This, for me, happens about once every 5-8 years (though I should admit it happened to me once every 3-6 months when I was dating Atticus long distance. Coincidentally, I happened to be able to visit him…about once every 3-6 months).
The thing about my feeeeeeeling is that it’s a quality-not-quantity feeeeeeeeling. This is pretty much how I do my consumer goods-ing. I’d much rather pay a higher price for a nicer thing than to save a buck with the thought that it might help me get more not-as-nice things in the future. This is how I once spent a day in Boston having an apoplectic feeeeeeeeeling wherein I threw out all my clothes that didn’t fit, had holes, or were plain ugly (which were pretty much all my clothes) and then traipsed off to J-Crew and spent $700 on what has turned out to be a new and wonderfully long-lasting wardrobe (various slacks, pants, cardigans, shirts, shoes, skirts, and dresses).
Anyway, back to my story. We’re in the mall. Atticus has this huge, old, unwieldy too-big coat. And I’m thinking, “And you’re planning on lugging that thing around a giant conference center for 3 days…and you’re really concerned about making good first impressions…and …I…just can’t let this happen.”
So, we went to a department store and purchased a very nice, very warm, yet very fashionable black wool navy-style coat.
And it cost a good chunk of our food budget.
But! You know what? When the feeeeeeeeeling dictates an action, I have absolutely zero regret. Nada. I hand over money like candy wrappers I happened to find in my pocket. AND, I’ve noticed that any feeeeeling purchases I’ve ever made have never been twinged with any regret ever. They’re always good decisions–and I’ve learned to recognize the feeeeeeeling of good decision making when it hits me.
And when I saw Atticus run off to his conference with a laptop slung over his black, tailored coat I thought, “Awesome. He looks awesome. And you know what? He feels awesome. Because he is. No bulk weighing him down today–just the knowledge that he looks like a frig-fracken Abercrombie model with the coolest powerpoint presentation in the class.”
Then I drove away.