Ever since I became fashion obsessed, I’ve always wanted a Chanel bag. As I grew older, I went through various emotional stages including (but not limited to): “You want me to pay what for that?!”, “Everyone has one…”, and of course “I want one so badly that I’ve started dreaming about them.”. When I made the decision to go back to work full time, I bargained with myself that if all my terms were met, I would finally buy one for myself as a present. So, I did.
Previously, the most expensive items I’ve ever purchased include my iPad 2 and an Alexander McQueen scarf on the day of his death. Dropping a couple hundred on a handbag, while intense, had become less shocking – made evident by the number of DKNY and Rebecca Minkoff handbgs in my collection. But nothing could have prepared me for the actual buying experience.
One night after work, I raced over to the Chanel SoHo boutique with the lovely Dina from Eye4Style. Please note that no one should make large purchasing decisions alone. I’d gone into the store with a clear vision. I wanted the classic 2.55 bag in the maxi size (the largest, obviously) in black lambskin with gold hardware. Sadly there wasn’t any gold hardware available and frankly, the silver doesn’t look the same against the black leather. Then, I saw it. The gorgeous deepened teal that mimics so many of my favorite nail polish shades and goes so nicely with navy, red and purple. I was in love.
As the sales associate began to carefully (and lovingly, I might add) package up the bag, I began to break a sweat. I was so nervous. Even though I had the funds available, the more moments that passed by the more nervous I became. I wished that she would just swipe my credit card so the worry would be over with. Can you possibly imagine how humiliating that conversation would be – in Chanel, of all places?!
Of course my anxiety was baseless and everything was perfectly fine. I walked out of the store feeling like a million, trillion bucks until reality set in which sounded something like the words “please don’t mug me” echoing through my head. The bag isn’t allowed on the floor, near liquid and makes me incredibly nervous on crowded subway cars. It was worth every penny.
Do I feel different? A little. I feel like I worked hard for something that meant a lot to me and I achieved a life goal. Pretty great for a random Thursday in October, if you ask me.
What was the last thing you did for yourself?