I am not a very focused shopper.
Most of my clothes and shoes come from random shopping trips. If it happened to be on sale while we happened to be at the mall, I’ll buy it. Or if it’s July and I’m back-to-school shopping (one of the many superficial reasons I like being a teacher. . .), I’ll buy things, but again, not really with a game plan.
I’ve only occasionally gone shopping with something specific on my mind. And normally I don’t find that something and leave discouraged. So my wardrobe is a random mix of what’s on sale and what happened to be long enough (because I am on an endless search to find pants that are long enough–I’m not complaining about being tall, but it’s really hard to walk into a store and always find pants that don’t make you look like you’re flooding).
So it’s completely out of character for me to be pining for some specific items. But I am. And it makes me feel all funny inside, like I must go out tonight and buy all these items so I can sleep. But I can’t and I won’t. Although, let’s just say, some of them might become mine this weekend.