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Never Enough.



Generally when we watch the sweet romantic movies or read chick-lits we find the reference of women and her never ending shopping spree. I often wonder whats with us, that makes us crave for glitters, pretty, fluffy and pink. Yes there's no hiding, no matter how strong we are, how successful, how hardworking, how much alpha female we are, we love cute things.

 We may have hundred pair of shoes, one more pair is never enough. Numerous ear rings, yet the one we saw shining on the display will take our dreams away. There can be no perfect handbag to satisfy our needs. Our almost perfect life can only be salvaged when we have that pretty skirt. Some say shopping is best way to cheer up, I agree to a certain extent if not completely. A good shopping experience can make our day or ruin it. Imagine when we fail to find the dress we saw last week or how do we feel when the heel we loved did not match our feet's desire. It always hurts when the salesman utter we don't have this dress in your size mam. Yes a shopping spree can hurt us bad, all day we stay grumpy and curse that imaginary woman who buys the dress, shoe or bags we loved it enough. Its a game of seduction and money, yes it is. If we have been seduced by the purple scarf on the mannequin then we must have the money to have it. Its also love at first sight, we are walking by the shop and suddenly the beautiful creation charms you. We start to imagine where we will wear it, where we will take it so on and on. We are also not trustworthy partners, we will dump the three months old vanity bag for the orange sling bag. We are adulteress in materialistic world, never satisfied, lusting after every nail polish colour. The red lipstick is forgotten when mauve takes over the smile. Beauty rules, every day is a test for us, to resist the next green trousers in fashion, to resist the butterfly flip flops since your purse is empty. Its never enough in the pink world. The mysteries of Hand Bag can only be understand when a new one charms us. We are enchanted, not once but every time we step out to shop. Had money been no object, every other shoe and clothes and hand bags would have been in our closet. Love at first sight often results in heartbreak, when the shirt button gets stuck at the cleavages it hurts to move on to next size. We can reject this love when the price tag snaps us out of the spell, we become self contented  and decide we don't need it despite our heart shouting to grab the object and run away.

If any thoughts that backs up this serious crime of fidelity, it has to be our insecured nature. We can never be sure of anything, there is nothing called absolute in this part of world. We always strive for better and cuter,  more the cute, the more heart melts. Unlike man who really don't care about quantity but quality. Women in general go for quantity. "Pretty, cheap and different" then you are in my closet baby. We are also always running after the mirage that, "One more" and I am settled. Sadly we never are, so many roses and where will one bee go. We have infinite clothes but never the right one. We are so doubtful that the clothes get depressed of our antics. The handbags start to hide themselves and shoes look down. Time space action fail to move when we have to choose, hence in a moment of doubt our greatness flickers. We are highly sensitive creature to glitters, pink, fluffy, cute, red and cheap. We can hide our crimes in our hand bags, no one can track our foot prints in heels, we are creatures who delve in sinful sweetful delights of clothes, shoes, bags and chocolates and what not. We are the followers of Eve, temptation was engraved in our soul, insecurity in the small gestures of shopping, which never end. For us every day there is an invisible Sale sign calling.

P.S-  I particularly support book shopping, but I am a girl too, temptations is always high, but right now I have only nine pair of shoes and twenty hand bags and few trinket and infinite clothes but I never have enough to wear,   dedicated to my shopaholic sister.

thanking you to bear with me
paulOaries

       

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