I’ve been SAD. It wasn’t diagnosed as such and I’ve not seen the Doctor about it, but I know it to be true. I always get strange looks from people when I own up to the fact that March 1st is my favourite day of the year. And that my second favourite is, this year, 24th March. I hate the Winter-time with a dislike approaching hatred. So the moment that Spring begins to poke through, the almost depression like cloud begins to lift. The alteration in the clocks is the final nail in the coffin and we begin to enjoy long evenings of light and everything feels right again. Seasonal Affective Disorder? Who knows? I just know that things get happier from here on in. Well, until October / November that is. As a result of the impending Spring, and a few other factors, recently, I’ve been happier.
Other factors? Enter shoes, stage left. Do you ever cringe when t-girls rabbit on about their shoes and handbags? I must admit that I sometimes do. I think that in the hands of some, conversations on the subject can feel put on and affected. There is almost a sense that, “its what women do” ergo we should too: whether we feel it or not. So please bear that in mind when I say that I have been looking for a particular pair of shoes for a very long time and now finally, I have them. And as a result, I’ve become the object of my own cringe. But actually, I really don’t care. I’m completely swooning about them and if it wasn’t for society and my family and colleagues’ collective harsh gazes, I’d be wearing them all the time.
It will probably sound like I’m just a big trend follower: but I’ve wanted a pair of nude patent leather heels for ever. Being a size 10, you have to put up with, to a degree, what’s available. To press, none of the nude shoes that I spotted were perfect. I’ve seen open toed, but I wanted closed. I’ve seen suede leather, but I wanted patent. I’ve seen flats and low heels, but I wanted 3-4 inches. I’d just about given up. And now, sadly, I’m happy.
About a year ago: in this blog in fact, I discovered the therapeutic power of shoes and the act of shoe shopping. It really does work. No matter how you are feeling, buying a new pair of shoes will reverse the bad mood. Clearly if you can buy a new pink top, a scarf, some jeans and some new underwear at the same time too, that might possibly help too... :o)
Anyway, so clearly there is an upside to retail therapy, but based on the pleasure -- pain theory, there must be a downside too. And the downside for me is complete guilt. Guilt is such a downer when you are feeling happy. With no surety of whether I shop because I chose to or because I have to, I feel that I probably shouldn't. The thing about shopping is that it costs money and whilst I’m spending disposable income, given how Mrs A feels about it all, I feel bad spending money on Rhiannon stuff at all. Maybe I should be saving it or spending it on mortgages or bills instead. Y’know, useful stuff. Stuff that is not the very thing I’m supposed to be avoiding and not doing. Every pound I spend makes me feel like I’m going further along that slippery path to certain doom. (Sorry, couldn’t resist the melodrama.)
The trouble is that as I’m sliding further along it, I’m smiling and shouting, “Weeeeeeeee”. Oops.