Strangely, my consumerism has been dulled since I came back to Hong Kong. In fact, even in India, I didn’t actually end up shopping that much. Maybe I was actually peaceful being back home among poeple I could actually talk to. Maybe being a shopaholic is really a disease and it’s so virulent in HK because everyone there is as empty as I feel.

Anyway, it’s quite a pleasurable disease.

And everything in HK conspired to make you shop, even if it’s in the supermarket. There’s always something deliciously displayed that you end up buying even though you don’t really need it. But at the time, it begins to feel that your life will gain some dazzle if only you had that own that tub of hummus or exotic brand of cheese. (Instead what happens is that you end up looking like a blob, but that’s much later).

It’s all made worse if your supermarket is actually part of a larger department store that contains clothes, cosmetics, everything that could distract you from life. If clothes do not equal life that is. So that is how on our way to buying something boring our other like a piece of meat for dinner, I ended up trying on at least five dresses.

I never would have started checking out the dresses if it hadn’t been for a conspiracy of events:
1) I finally recieved my VIP card after purchasing three jackets I did not intend to buy three months ago. The card was rainbow coloured and unusually pretty for something so disastrously hued. I itched to use it.
2) We happened to walk by the shop on our way to the floor below where the groceries (blah) are housed.
3) There was a sale on (contrary to V’s contention that there is always a sale on, there are actually a few dry periods in which there is no sale).

So, as a result of the above three factors, I was compelled to at least have a glance. Unfortunatley, I hadn’t accounted for the super-talented salesgirls of the likes of ‘you must try this on… never mind, if you don’t buy it! It will really suit your shape’. And unfortunately, it does. And so does the next one. And the next.

You emerge from the fitting room with an armful of clothes, where you had intended ONLY ONE DRESS and a drooping credit card and will. This is when you must summon your husband from wherever he has wandered of to, and get down to the eliminations while steadfastly ignoring the salesgirls who are even now trying to catch your eye with more stuff.

The result:
1) One summer dress, in blue and orange stripes (not as ghastly as it sounds)
2) Rejuvenated will power that resisted the urge for blue polka dot dress and brown sporty dress and tights
3) Wistful memory of blue polka dot dress and brown sporty dress and tights
4) Slightly less shocking credit card bill

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