Hello, my name is Impeccable Pen, and I am a shopaholic.
I am addicted to buying clothes, shoes, bags, accessories and make up. I’m obsessed with making sure that my physical appearance looks fabulous.
I’ve always loved fashion.
Ever since I was a little girl, my mom made sure that I looked my best and had the latest fashionable items. I was always the envy of all of my cousins; they wished that they looked as good as I did, and the compliments I received from my friends were endless.
As a result, I bought a new outfit, with my mother footing the bill off-course. Everything had to be new because I couldn’t commit the fashion sin of repeating an outfit. I considered that fashion suicide. Imagine me being seen in the same outfit over and over again! I shudder at the thought!
I grew up believing that I needed something new every single month, even if it was a scarf to compliment a gorgeous blouse that I had. But more than that, I believed my appearance made me beautiful.
“I mean, what else does a woman have to show that she’s attractive and is able to stand out of the crowd?” I thought. “Dare I blend in with commoners by merely wearing blues jeans and a T-shirt? No!” my mind continued to tell me.
Therefore, I believed that a drop-dead gorgeous outfit was necessary for every single day of the week. I had to turn heads with my appearance.
But the problem was that the money I had wasn’t enough to support the kind of wardrobe that I felt like I needed. “Saving up is going to take too long”, I thought. “I need that top, those jeans, that blazer and those shoes right now! This is urgent! My beauty depends on it”, I believed.
So I opened a clothing store account.
I was brilliant with my budget and I thought that I could control my spending. “Besides, I’m paying in installments, so it can’t be bad at all”, I convinced myself.
But one clothing store account turned into two, then into five, then into countless accounts. Before I knew it, I racked up debt that I couldn’t afford to pay off.
I was drowning in debt because of my addiction to looking good, but that didn’t matter because I was still the talk of the town and I was still turning heads. Compliments flew in from left, right and centre and my wardrobe looked like a fashion spread from Vogue.
But the credit bureau didn’t care and my finances were a mess.
I borrowed money to cover my expenses, including rent, food and petrol, from family, friends and colleagues and I worked double shifts to try and raise money to pay off all the debt on my clothing accounts.
That didn’t go so well because one day, I found myself standing on the pavement outside of my apartment while the little I had was being repossessed.
My debt had spiraled out of control.
All I had to my name was with a pile of clothes that I managed to stuff into in big suitcase.
I had to move back home because my apartment was gone. I couldn’t even afford to buy a loaf of bread.
My addiction to looking good left me broke.
I’m now sitting in my bedroom, wearing a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt.
I’ve repeated all of my outfits, and the quality of my clothes has depreciated.
I still have no money, but I want a new outfit… No, I need a new outfit because I feel ugly, worn out and insignificant.
Will you buy it for me? I promise I’ll pay you back…
*image from The Odyssey.