No accomplishment compares to walking down 5th Avenue clutching handfuls of black, purple, striped, and brown bags full of merchandise that has been purchased at 80% off. We know every sale, sample sale, final sale, clearance sale, and warehouse sale throughout the tri-state area. Most importantly, as we parade our new acquisitions to close friends, (shamelessly admitting what we paid) the approving winks and high-fives secure our title as the undefeated champs of fab finds. Indeed, if shopping were an Olympic sport, New Yorkers would bring home Gold every time.
Of course, leave it to Islanders to put a wet rag on our fun, with the ever so opportune statement: allá se consiguen las cosas baratíííísimas. While it is true that We enjoy a good sale, not all that we own has been purchased in Chinatown or at Marshall’s. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love deeply discounted stuff off the rack, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that everything we own, (all of it) costs five dollars. The absolute worst is traveling for hours on foot to find the perfect regalito or encargo for your relatives, and after shelling a couple of hundred dollars for something you think they might appreciate, it comes back to you as “Eso de seguro lo consiguió en especial.”
Islanders are first in line to admire your closet, while simultaneously qualifying your purchasing power. Every acquisition move has its respective comment. If you are always buying on sale, you are a tacaña. Buy at designer discount stores, and expect “¿Y será falsificada esa cartera?” and when you think your are safe in the buying-retail-all-the-time zone, brace yourself for the most obnoxious of remarks: “¿Pero será verdad que ella gana tanto dinero para poder comprar esas cosas tan caras?”
It happens to the best of us. We can’t help the euphoria of seeing family and friends. We get caught up in the moment, and before we know it, we start spilling all of our savvy shopper tips. However, we fail to realize that our good intentions inevitably backfire. I once made the mistake of taking an Islander to a sample sale, only to get “¡Ay no! Eso está muy tirado… hay que escarbar demasiado en ese reguero, y sabrá dios si esa ropa es auténtica.” Did I mention this was a Ralph Lauren Black Label sale?
“¡A ti ta’ bueno que te pase!” scolded my friend over brunch mimosas.
It is why from this time forth, every inquiry pertaining to places donde venden bueno, will prompt the response: “Imagínate eso está lejíííísimo… en Pennsylvania.”
Devious? Hardly. It’s called learning my lesson. Besides… nothing compares to the pleasure I get from seeing Islanders sweat it out as They peruse the pristine racks of glossy-shopping-bag department stores, only to conclude that “todo está muy bonito, pero no es ‘exactamente’ lo que ando buscando,” which you and I know quite well is code for This shit is way too expensive.