I’m a heavy packer. When it comes to my suitcases, I always take two: one for clothes and one for shoes. This weekend, though, I performed a seemingly impossible feat. You see, I put everything I needed into one suitcase. And I didn’t even go over the weight limit (three pounds under). In fact, I only took two pairs of shoes. The most astounding part of the whole story? I only wore one pair of shoes the entire weekend.

This is big. This is really big. I’m either growing up, turning over a new leaf or becoming a very boring person—a person that only needs one pair of shoes. I'd like to think I’m very exciting (the opposite of boring) so I’m going to start making some excuses as to why I only needed one measly pair of shoes.

For one, I visited a very moderate climate where I knew the weather wouldn’t dip below freezing (unlike my current hometown). I also knew that I’d be having a low-key, laid back weekend full of shopping, relaxing and helping my friend with her wedding arrangements. Oh, it also helped that I only packed one color scheme. This prevented me from having more accessories than needed. Plus, these shoes I speak of were actually really cute, versatile shoes—so naturally they were a flexible accessory to pair with every outfit.

You’re probably wondering what kind of shoes these were? Well, my friends, they’re a shoe I’ve always stood behind: snakeskin loafers. These sassy, relaxed cut loafers in black and white python with a bit of shine added just the amount of sass to each one of my outfits. And since dressing up wasn’t required of me, they went with everything I wore.

I went on a four-day trip and only needed one pair of shoes. Watch out world, I’m feeling like I could do anything right about now.

*Click on the image above, courtesy of Nordstrom, to get your own pair.

You’ve got $1000 to spend. Where did you get it? It was a gift. A gift from a really, really good friend (of your choosing) who just so happens to love giving you money. You probably have a lot of friends like this. Anyway, you decide to do a little shopping to get rid of it. You head down to your local Nordstrom to shop for a new summer handbag—after all, they usually have a good selection.

You know you want a bag that’s roomy and substantial. After all, a good handbag should hold all the necessities: lip gloss, sunglasses, mints, credit cards, money and more. Plus, summer calls for a fun, bright punch of color. Your new handbag needs to be a color that gets compliments but something with staying power (meaning it won’t go out of style in three months).

After grabbing a coffee at the Nordstrom café and avoiding the shoe department, you head to handbags. Not surprisingly, your best friends are all there waiting on you: Tory Burch, Marc Jacobs, Kate Spade, Jimmy Choo, Michael Kors and a couple guys you call Dolce and Gabbana. Everyone looks really happy to see you. You begin tearing through all the beautiful purses, picking them up, throwing them over your shoulder, hanging them over your elbow and checking yourself out in the mirror. There are so many options, but you finally narrow it down to two favorites.

Option #1:

The first is the Jen Shoulder Bag by Marc Jacobs. It’s classic and chic in an updated pink color. The roomy inside, top zipper and two handles make it easy and convenient to tote around. Plus, you remember seeing a woman carrying the Jen Shoulder Bag in Panera last week. It was really cute—and looked great tossed over her arm. It would look much better tossed over yours. At $825 it’ll give you a bit of leftover money to blow in the accessories department.

Option #2:

The second bag is the Botkier “Sasha” Duffel Bag in a bright, summery orange (that could transition to fall and winter very nicely). It’s roomy, spacious and has a very boho-chic feel. The supple leather gathers nicely and adds to the effortlessly cool vibe the bag gives off. You can either carry it by the small duffle handles or use the shoulder strap. The extra hardware is edgy and a price tag of $635 means you can also afford the extra pair of super-edgy Dior Shades you’ve been eyeing to complete your look.

It’s a battle of the bags—which one would you pick? Leave a comment explaining the bag you picked and why you picked it! If you want to elaborate, tell me how your life changes after you pick your favorite bag (this is like extra credit). I want to hear from as many of you as possible. Let’s see which bag wins and what “adventure” you actually choose!

*Photos courtesy of Nordstrom. Click here to make your adventure a reality and buy one of these bags for yourself.

I used to love “Choose Your Own Adventure” books when I was kid. I loved being a part of the plot and thrived on knowing that my decisions actually mattered. Let’s be honest, I liked the control.

Enter me in my 20s. I’m so sick of choosing my own adventure I could puke. Everyday is a “Choose Your Own Adventure” novel. What to eat for lunch? Where to live? Should I watch TV or go to the gym? When you’re an adult, everything you do has an outcome—everything has consequences.

Take the last question, for example. Should I watch TV or go to the gym? I pick watch TV. Here’s how the ending to that adventure might go.

You decided to stay in and watch TV on a rainy Tuesday night. You put on your favorite pair of sweat pants and tuned into American Idol just in time to see Paula and Simon exchange words. You also decided to eat ice cream. Your lack of activity lulled you to sleep at 9:30 p.m. Although you got a full night’s sleep, you awoke in the morning feeling and looking five pounds heavier. The entire day you had severe guilt for not going to the gym and all you could think about was the 900 calories you ingested by eating a bowl of ice cream.

Sounds like quite the adventure, huh? So what if I picked the gym?

You decide to spend your Tuesday night at the gym. After work you grab your gym bag off your bed and head to the health club. As soon as you step on the elliptical your favorite song starts blaring over the speakers—Britney Spears. After a three mile run, you decide to break for some water. As you head towards the wall, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and notice that you look as if you’ve instantly lost 10 pounds. As you approach the water fountain a muscular, toned gentleman with dark hair and deep brown eyes steps toward you and winks. Just as you’re about to take a sip, he taps you on the shoulder and…

And that’s how “Choose Your Own Adventure” goes in the real world. Lame. I know. That’s why I’m introducing a new section to Pretty and Poor that shares the name of those beloved childrens books. It’s where you choose your own adventure—you choose what you want to buy. And guess what? Unlike living arrangements, Tuesday night plans or your boyfriend…it doesn’t matter. You can pick whichever option you want. And you can even change your mind (mostly because you don’t actually get to buy it, it’s imaginary). Stay tuned for the first “Choose Your Own Adventure” imaginary spending spree coming up soon!

Last night I finally got sick of watching college basketball. I think it had something to do with the dramatic and exhausting range of emotions I experienced while watching Missouri play. The Tigers did, however, manage to pull off a win against Marquette. So all my shrieking, screaming, jumping and fist pumping actually paid off. Cute. I know.

I finally decided to watch televising programming that was a bit more tame-- something that wasn’t a hazard to my mental and physical wellbeing. I started flipping channels and noticed that a movie starring LL Cool J was going to come on TBS. So I tuned in. In case you don’t know, I have a huge crush on LL Cool J. The movie was called Last Holiday and I vaguely remembered the previews from a few years back.

The movie turned out to be hilarious and heartwarming. Although I’m sure I’ll take a considerable amount of heat for admitting this, I really liked it. The basis of the plot is this: a young, hardworking, responsible woman (Queen Latifah) learns that she only has three weeks left to live. She decides to cash in all of her money, sell most of her possessions and take the dream vacation of a lifetime. She stays in a presidential suite at a savvy hotel, buys expensive clothing, eats calorie-packed, chef-prepared meals and gambles without inhibitions. Oh, and did I mention she gets the guy, too? That’s right. She was smooching with LL Cool J’s character by the end of the film.

I think she did it right. While the movie was a comedy, it made me realize how important it is to treat yourself to things that make you happy—no matter what they are—each and everyday. Love chocolate? Have one. Wearing dresses make you smile? Flaunt them. Love to share good food with good friends? Schedule a dinner party. Need to know if that guy is digging you? Ask him to grab a drink. Life is definitely precious (here’s where I get really deep) so make sure you continually treat yourself to things that make you feel special (just don’t go into credit card debt). I really believe that every single day should contain a little holiday.

Click here to watch the trailer. And seriously, you may want to rent the movie for yourself.

I’d like to take this opportunity to profess my love for the one-and-only sweater dress. Without the sweater dress, I would have been naked nearly all winter long. I own at least ten sweater dresses in different colors and I’ve got a lot of love for each and every one of them.

Take today, for example. Today I’m wearing a not-too-chunky brown cotton sweater dress that hits above the knee. It’s got two, totally-hip pockets, long sleeves and a crew neck. I’m wearing it with slouchy brown boots and tights. It’s the perfect outfit for a day that’s not cold, but not hot.

I think I have more love for the sweater dress than the average girl. So I started to think about when this infatuation started brewing. When I was little, my Barbie’s used to wear a lot of sweater dresses, yet I never saw them on the mainstream fashion scene. Then when I got old enough to venture to the mall, I saw lots of sweater dresses in stores like Cache—but those were sweater dresses for the “older” crowd at that time. Then, within the last two years a revolution occurred and the sweater dress was brought to the forefront of the fashion scene in styles and shapes that compliment both young and old.

This Alexander McQueen cashmere sweater dress is gorgeous, but a bit of out of my league with a price tag of nearly $2000. Seriously chic, though.

This adorable Theory sweater dress is a wardrobe staple in black and gray, and a piece that can easily be dressed up or down.

So if you've not yet caught the sweater dress fever, I suggest you run right out and buy yourself one. Your closet will thank you. The sweater dress is easy, effortless and undeniably cute!

*Photos courtesy of Net-A-Porter.com and Nordstrom, two fabulous sources for great sweater dresses.

In college, I had two roomies. The first was very similar to me when it came to clothing and beauty products. The other was a minimalist—she needed only the bare essentials to be happy. Naturally, my similar roomie and I shared a bathroom. It was a big bathroom, but we continually found new ways to run out of space. We had every beauty product in the book, from different size hairbrushes to straightening irons, new shampoos, tackle boxes full of make-up and bottles of perfumes. We even had a sign hanging up that said, “Boys Are Great. Every Girl Should Own One.” We were in constant-pursuit of the latest and greatest miracle product that would make our lives easier. One time, our other roommate walked into our bathroom, giggled and shook her head.

“Your bathroom looks like a Walgreens,” she laughed.

She was right. We had nearly every beauty product under the sun—shelves of balms, drawers of make-up, totes of nail polish. It probably was a bit much. But, considering we used to make monthly trips to Walgreens and stock up on the essentials (never spending under $40) it was an accurate accusation.

That was in college. Yesterday I did some errands after work. I went to Trade Secret to see if they had the shampoo I wanted (negative), then I went to Target to see if they carried it (also negative) and I finally ended up at my trusty neighborhood Walgreens. Here’s a glimpse inside my head during my drug-store debauchery.

“Oh. Sunless tanner. It’s on sale. Maybe I need an extra bottle. Firming cream? Like, for my thighs? How does that work? I wonder if it’s any good. I need to open it and smell it but that lady stocking the shelves is looking right at me. I’ll just go look at the hair stuff until she goes to the next aisle. Whoa. Who knew they had such adorable headbands here. Buy one get one free? Two packs. I wear these things all the time and these are actually really cute. I would pay at least $15 for a headband like this at Nordstrom’s. Now what did I actually come in here for, shampoo? Yes. Oh, they’re not going to have the kind I want either. Wait. There it is. But they only have the shampoo. It won’t work as well if I don’t have the coordinating conditioner. I guess I’ll just get the shampoo, I mean no one else even carries the stuff. Is the toothpaste the next aisle over? Sweet. A magical mirror that shows you all the plaque on your teeth—that seems too good to be true.”

After my trip, which lasted approximately 45 minutes, I went home and took my two bags of beauty remedies to my bathroom. That’s when I thought, “Yeah, my bathroom still looks like a Walgreens.”

And in case you wanted some sort of value from this entry, here it is. The shampoo I was searching for is Pantene's Silver Expressions. Yes, this is made for women with a full head of gray hair. No, I do not have any gray hair. But, the deep purple formula works wonders for keeping blondes bright, not brassy. While this is a miracle shampoo for blondes, make sure you only use it once or twice per week. Similar products marketed to blondes retail for much more in professional salons, but I've actually found this formula (for silvery strands) to be one of the most powerful for blasting color-dulling residue. And apparently you can get it at Walgreens.

Lip gloss is one of those girly essentials. I think everyone would agree that a little mascara and some lip gloss can go a long way. In fact, I probably have more lip gloss in my purse than anything else. I recently discovered a new lip gloss that I love.

MAC’s Cremesheen Glass in Petite Indulgence is my new sidekick! The color adds a hint of pink to the lips while the intense shine of the gloss keeps them looking polished. The ultra-moisturizing formula goes on silky and stays comfortable for a long time. That’s right. Your lips don’t get sticky or gooey—promise. It’s the perfect partner for your pout.

And it’s also a great pal in the purse too. I’ve stuck my hand in my purse many times to find greasy lip gloss coating everything. The bottle doesn’t close right. The lid gets gooey. So far, the lid to my MAC Cremesheen Glass has gone on tight and stayed on—evening after tumbling around in my bag.

Can’t wait to transition this great shade into summer—it will be the ultimate summertime gloss! To get your own tube, click here.

*Photo courtesy of MAC Cosmetics.

The first time I heard the song I thought, "brilliant, sneaky and just what we needed!" Today, I saw the video and thought, "even better!" Britney's newest video is a good one! Check it out by clicking here. Duh. That's why I love Britney Spears.

I hate paying for big girl things like tires and visits to the doctor. It just seems like such a waste. I mean, tires are by no means glamorous—in fact, they’re big, dirty piles of rubber. And I pay how much for those suckers? Yeah, that’s right. For the price of four new tires I could get myself a nice little Louis Vuitton.

I miss the days when I didn’t have to think about how much my trip to the dentist or eye doctor cost. My parents footed the bill—betcha’ they had stellar insurance too. Those were the good ole' days.

Today I was reminded about how much I hate paying for mundane things. On my way to work, I started hearing a very high pitched squealing noise coming from my car. It sounded like cats were stuck in my tires. It happened when I hit my brakes. Just to make sure, I called my Mom and put her on speakerphone to see if she could hear the squealing and find out if she had ever experienced anything like it. Apparently, that’s what happens when your brakes are nearing the end of their life. It was enough to scare me. The thought of me frantically pressing my foot on my brake pedal but not being able to stop at a red light played over and over again in my mind. It was time for new brakes.

So I got brakes instead of a handbag, or new shoes, or four new pairs of shoes. And that, my friends, is the life of a big girl. Somewhere they refer to that as being responsible. I refer to it as total agony.

I recently saw some pictures of myself tagged on Facebook and thought, “you look paler and pastier than you’ve ever been in your entire life.” Needless to say, I immediately untagged them. That’s when the doubts about my self-image started. I knew winter was getting long, I knew I hadn’t seen the sun in months, but I had no idea I looked THAT pale!

So I bought myself a Mystic tan and a real tan. Mystic tan because I needed instant color (so I could look at my skin without experiencing a blinding glare). Real tan because I needed to feel hot and warm—like I was lying on a beach in Tahiti. Hey, it was cheaper than actually booking a ticket to Tahiti…which I actually considered doing.

So, if winter is taking its toll on you (and you’re too old to actually have a real “spring break”) I suggest throwing a beach party in the comforts of your own home. Invite all your friends over and tell them to wear their beach attire. Then, jack your heat up as high as it will go. Break out the blender and mix up beach-inspired drinks (pina coladas, margaritas, daiquiris and more). Watch movies that take place in the warm weather. Oh, and here’s the best part. Make sure you have plenty of spray-on sunless tanner available so you can spray each other down. That’s right. Real tans at your beach party. Everyone will leave with a warm glow, a beach buzz and better outlook on life (at least until around June).

Banana Boat Summer Color Self-Tanning Mist is my favorite self-tanner. It's the perfect spray on option for your pseudo beach party. Happy sunning.

*Photo courtesy of drugstore.com.

Do you like jewelry? Duh. Got a few minutes? Check out www.JIC.org to enter to win an oh-so-classy 1.05 TCW diamond necklace from Kwiat. All you have to do is submit your "jewelry story" for a chance to win. Since I end up buying my own jewelry, I don't really have any stellar stories. Mine would go a lot like this: went to the store, looked at some diamonds, got excited, left and got coffee, went back to the store, bought diamonds. Not too interesting!

Click here to go to their site and enter. While you're there, check out the great jewelry trend information they have available and drool over some of the other great pieces showcased! It's a diamond lover's dream!

*Photo courtesy of www.JIC.org.

On Saturday morning I got up early and made a list of all the things I wanted to do. The sun was shining. I wasn’t hung-over. It was going to be a glorious day! After getting ready I hopped in my car and headed to my first destination: Starbuck’s. I ordered my favorite combination: an iced, venti, non-fat latte with a slice of pumpkin loaf on the side. De-lish.

I put the pumpkin loaf in the passenger seat as I drove off with my latte in hand. As I pulled the straw up to my mouth, the plastic lid buckled and a tidal wave of ice and coffee sloshed onto my face and ran down my chin, splashing all over my shirt. It didn’t stop there. Once it hit the bottom of my heather gray sweater it formed a pool near my crotch. Awesome. Just how I was hoping to start the day: spilling a brown, murky substance all over the front, central region of my sweater.

I kept my coat on throughout the rest of the morning to hide the ugly stains. The coat gave me comfort—it created the illusion that I was actually pulled together. Until someone asked me why I was wearing my coat indoors. I told them about the incident with the latte and they simply replied, “Do you want my Tide pen?”

I’ve seen the commercials for the Tide pen. I’m skeptical. Every time someone uses the Tide pen it’s like a miracle occurs and the stain completely disappears within moments. I’ve dealt with a lot of stains and that miraculous stain-lifting scenario is not the norm. Usually, when you apply any sort of stain-fighting wonder you end up wearing gooey blobs of the stain coupled with a soapy, fresh smelling agent. “Nonetheless,” I thought to myself, “just use the Tide pen. If anything, it will be a sort of pre-treater so the stain comes out easier in the wash.”

After awkwardly dabbing my chest and stomach with the Tide pen, I gave it back to friend, buttoned up my coat (to hide the baseball-size blobs on my shirt) and went on my way. About 35 minutes later, I unbuttoned my coat in the secrecy of the ladies room. Amazingly, my stains were gone! The Tide pen really worked.

Since Saturday, I’ve become a passionate advocate for the Tide pen. It saved a gorgeous, gray turtleneck sweater from death by coffee! Coincidentally, I had dinner with a friend who works for Proctor and Gamble on Saturday night. I told her, and everyone else at our table, how much I loved the Tide pen. Without a doubt, every girl on the go should have a Tide pen tucked neatly inside her designer handbag.

*Photo courtesy of Staples.com.

Tonight I was reminded, once again, how much I hate thong cleavage. It's just not cute. There's nothing classy about a thong hanging out of someones pants at least 3-4 inches. When I can tell the exact style of thong (from Victoria's Secret) the girl in front of me is wearing, then there's a huge problem. It's flat out uncomfortable for everyone. Why? Because I don't really want to know. Ladies, please make sure you pick undies that vibe well with your bottoms. Low cut jeans? Low cut thong. It seems so elementary, yet the rule is broken everyday.

And I'm human. I know that sometimes it happens, sometimes you're sitting in a weird position, your pants stretch out a little more than expected or you flat-out forget to rise in a ladylike manner. I understand, and that's why I think forgiveness is a beautiful thing. But sometimes forgiveness is hard, so let's just make this easier on everyone. Pay attention to your sometimes very awkwardly peeking panties. Even though our good friend Sisqo begged to "let me see it again" in his smash hit The Thong Song, remember that his career ended a long time ago.

And just in case you need a reminder, check this out.

You’ve probably caught on to this, but I’m a huge fan of jeans. Denim is my wardrobe staple (right behind zebra print) and something that I’m willing to pay a hefty price for. I enjoy different styles of jeans, from skinny fashions to wide-leg trouser styles. I have several brands that I’m very loyal to (True Religion, Joe’s and Juicy) but I’m always willing to branch out and try the hottest new denim cuts and collections.

Last year, or maybe it was the year before, I decided to branch out. Banana Republic (one of my favorite chain stores) launched a line of denim in impressive washes, cuts and styles. I purchased a couple pairs. One pair was a skinny cut style that I wore with riding boots or tall heels, the other was a general boot-cut pair for everyday use. Here’s the thing: I stopped wearing them after several washes.

The jeans lost their shape and started fitting very oddly after several trips to the washing machine. I tried ironing them, starching them, not washing them as much, but it was no use—the tailoring continued to disappoint. On the plus side, the jeans held their color well. Plus, the fabric was very durable. I wanted to wear them more but they continued to look terrible on my body. So then I blamed myself. Maybe I had gained a pound or two? Maybe my body was changing shape?

Maybe I should be easier on myself. Yesterday, while sipping an iced-tea with a coworker, we got on the subject of Banana Republic denim. She too, bought several pairs a year ago. And just like me, she couldn’t wear any of them because they lost their form and started looking terrible on her figure. They got that untailored, gross look. They started crinkling around the seams. Viola! It wasn’t me—it was the jeans.

These jeans from Banana Republic are, no doubt, adorable. But I'm scared to buy them because of my past experiences with Banana's denim.

Banana’s jeans literally drove me a Bananas. Even though Banana’s jeans were more affordable than the standard designer denim I usually flaunt, I always get my FULL wear out of Joe’s, True Religion or Juicy. I’ll still be a loyal Banana customer, but I’ll stick to the blouses, dresses and suits.

I'm down with Barbie. I mean, we've known each other since I was about three or four. So it's not shocking that we're so close. Actually, I'm not completely crazy, Barbie's new BLOG and facebook page makes me feel we're tight enough to grab lattes after a trip to the mall. Check it out by clicking here.

Barbie recently completed the "25 Random Things About Me" activity that was circulating facebook last month. Amazingly enough, many of Barbie's random things would be the same as mine. Here's a sampling of the random things Barbie and I have in common:

Barbie Said: "I still don’t look a day over 18."
Emily Says: "I got carded at a wedding this weekend! I look young too!"

Barbie Said: "I’ve been to the moon and back."
Emily Says: "Barbie, it's like you read my last blog entry. I OWN a space suit."

Barbie Said: "My closet is crazy. I own over 50,000 outfits."
Emily Says: "My closet is really unorganized, but I bet there are almost 50,000 outfits in there!"

Barbie Said: "I do a lot of modeling, but have never been tall enough to walk a runway."
Emily Says: "Girl, I feel your pain."

Barbie Said: "My feet were simply made for heels."
Emily Says: "I have high arches too! Flats hurt my feet!"

Barbie Said: "My philosophy? A great handbag can save any outfit."
Emily Says: "Two words: Marc Jacobs."

Barbie Said: "I never go out without my makeup on."
Emily Says: "Finally, someone who understands that natural isn't always pretty."

Barbie Said: "I love, love, love driving fast cars."
Emily Says: "I got two speeding tickets last year!"

Click here to read more of Barbie's blog and learn even more about my new best friend. It's seriously the coolest thing I've found on the internet lately.

*Photo courtesy of Barbie's Blog. Click the above links to see even more glamor shots.

I enjoy making fashion statements. I strive for style. But all it takes is one idiot to make you think twice about your decisions.

I’ve written about my “garbage bag coat” before. If you’ve forgotten about it, let me refresh your memory. The person who coined it my “garbage bag coat” wore a black t-shit, baseball cap and ratty jeans everyday (clearly someone who did NOT understand fashion). The coat is awesome. It’s a chocolate-colored, shiny leather motorcycle jacket with gold hardware. Fashionable women literally stop me everywhere to compliment my coat and ask me where I found it. It’s rare—only a few of the coats were produced. It’s tailored perfectly to my body and my attitude. I love it.

This weekend I went out for a night of dancing and socializing with my friends. The perfect accessory to my gold-studded sweater and dangly gold earrings was my brown motorcycle jacket. One of my friends calls it my “Michael Jackson coat”. That doesn’t bother me—I mean, I did idolize MJ as a child. I had the movie Michael Jackson: Moonwalker and I watched it over and over again, day after day. Long story short, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I subconsciously channeled Michael’s style from the late 80’s.

Getting back on track, our night out was great. At the end of the evening after a few drinks, I slipped on my jacket and went up a staircase to the exit. Two desperate guys standing at the top of the stairs wearing polos and pea coats (how original) looked at me and then looked at each other. Then, one of them did something he definitely should have thought twice about. He opened his mouth.

“Hey, I was really hoping I could meet a girl wearing a space suit out at the bar tonight,” he jokingly told his buddy.

My blonde head whipped around faster than they knew what was going on. Before they knew it, they were standing face-to-face with the most fashion-forward space cadet they had ever reckoned with.

“Oh, you were hoping to meet a girl in a space suit?” I asked. “Sorry to disappoint you. Because just for the record, this isn’t a space suit. It’s a ‘Michael Jackson’ coat. And the next time you guys actually intend to meet ANY girls at all out at a bar, maybe you should try wearing something more than a baseball cap. That’s lame.”

Then I turned around and shuffled very quickly out the door in my four-inch stilettos, because even though I’m a girl, someone might hit me some day.

Last week I was having one of those weeks— the kind of week when nothing seemed to be going right and I was getting into trouble everywhere I turned. The only rational Band-aid for that type of week is, duh, a shopping trip. After a Saturday of uninhibited retail therapy I feel much better. I bought some new jeans by Joe’s (I almost got two pairs but self control miraculously kicked in), and a couple darling tops.

Macy’s just so happened to be having a fabulous sale on boots and booties, and even though I’m SO OVER winter footwear, one pair caught my eye. In fact, this beautiful pair of booties had been flirting with me throughout the entire season. I remember the day I first laid eyes on them. It was over Thanksgiving break. I was shopping for Coach snow boots with my grandma and my aunt (who were visiting from out of town). My grandma was taking her good ole’ time trying on every, single pair of Coach snow boots. I was taking my time sifting through sale racks. When I finished, I rounded a corner in the shoe department and right there, on the top of a table display, were a pair of bright purple Stuart Weitzman booties gleaming in the spotlight. I immediately gravitated to them. I picked them up. Suede. A-maz-ing.

Oh, and the best news: they weren’t on sale. Not even a little bit. And at well over $300 they weren’t really something I could justify. Not even with my rock-solid Price Per Wear (PPW) theory. And that was it. I tried to shut the memory of those dazzling purple booties out of my head like a love-story gone wrong.

Then, this weekend, I saw them again. They were right where they always were. They looked good—really good. In fact, they had never looked better. And right next to them was a giant red sign that read, “select boots and booties 75% off.” I quickly did the math in my head.

“75% off? That’s like, under a hundred bucks,” I thought as I reached out and grabbed one.

I quickly found a shoe salesman who asked for my size. I told him to bring a size nine, and instructed him to bring one half size up or down if there isn’t a size nine. For emergency situations like this, it’s totally appropriate to lie a bit about your shoe size. A half size smaller just means a little pain here and there, and everyone knows that makes you stronger. A size bigger simply means to wear thick tights or buy some discreet inserts. Totally worth it for purple booties.

He came back carrying two Stuart Weitzman boxes.

“This is the best day of my life,” I thought as a big smile spread across my face.

Then, he said the words that signaled the end of my short-lived but blissful relationship with those purple booties. “We actually don’t have any of those booties left in your size or anything close.”

Right through the heart. But what was in those boxes he brought out? Hot pink heels? Glistening gold strappy sandals? Purple pumps? That’s when he proceeded to tell me what he actually brought out for me.

“I actually brought you something a bit more practical,” he boasted as he lifted off the lid of the top shoebox to reveal a pair of clunky black boots.

“Practical?” I asked. I was genuinely puzzled because the word “practical” isn’t in my syntax. “I don’t do practical…but thanks.”

And with that I got up, took a deep breath, tried to tell myself those purple booties and I just weren’t meant to be, and walked to another store where I bought myself a fur coat to ease the pain. Like I said, I don’t do practical.

*Picture of gorgeous Stuart Weitzman booties courtesy of bluefly.com.