Confessions of a Ritaholic......
I am Amy Jackson and I am addicted to shopping. I don't mean the type of shopping where you treat yourself every now and again. No. I think about shopping most of the time. I pretend to like anywhere I can buy things. Once, after a break up with a boyfriend I could only find a chemist open. I bought myself a pack of three sponges just so I could spend some money.
I like to be prepared. I buy outfits to go shopping for new outfits in. I buy new makeup to go to the makeup counter and I buy new shampoo to wash my hair with before I go to the hairdressers.
If Big Col needs a trip to B&Q, so do I. Who doesn't need a new multi pack of drill bits anyway?
Spending money makes me happy. Handing my debit card over to the shop assistant is like joining a secret club. No matter where I am, I cannot help but try and talk to them 'DON'T YOU THINK WHAT I'M BUYING IS SO NICE?' is my favourite, swiftly followed by (and I have no idea why) 'THIS MIGHT NOT EVEN FIT, I JUST LOVE IT.' As soon as I have a nice new carrier bag in my hand I'm pleased.
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The one thing I don't buy? Trainers. As far as I am concerned, trainers are ugly, useless pieces of footwear. Even when I had a brief fling with the gym back in about the year 2000 I literally jogged in to the nearest sports shop and bought the pinkest pair I could find and jogged back out. I didn't go to the gym that night, I had already done enough exercise, obviously.
The trainers turned out to be a size too small and I'm not even going to admit what happened to my feet next because if I do I can bank on being single for the rest of my life.
Ever since that moment, I have turned my extra small nose up at the sight of them.
Until now. I've ignored the sports luxe trend for months. Seriously, months. It is not for me. I hate the gym.
But then the BFF had to ruin it. She produced tickets to see Rita Ora as a Christmas present. If there's anybody who does sports luxe well, it's Ora and when faced with the decision of what to wear to the gig I felt physically sick when I realised what was coming.
Before I knew it, I was in the middle of the shoe shop in a pencil skirt, black tights and trainers. Like a woman possessed I demanded to try hi tops on in every brand, sprinting round the shop to make sure I hadn't missed anything more sporty.
That day I bought two pairs. TWO PAIRS. To be fair, one of the pairs has been vajazzled to within an inch of their life but they are still lace up, sports brand hi - top TRAINERS.
I spent the night at Rita Ora happily bouncing around. I had to really, I was far too short to see what was going on. Unfortunately for me, I still haven't grasped how to buy trainers in a size that fits and ended up with a size too small. My feet were in more pain than after a full night in 6 inch heels and the trainers have gone straight back in their box. But at least I'm prepared. As a shopaholic I will never be caught short. Whether it's trainers, sponges or drill bits.