Annapalooza

An observant husband can be a double-edged sword.  On one end you’ve got men like my dad, affectionately known as Captain Oblivious.  My mom could wear a brand new outfit every day for a month and that man still would not notice.  In other words, my mom can get away with a lot.  Dad isn’t going to be noticing those new shoes any time soon, nor does he really know what things cost these days, unless it’s related to deer hunting or Ham Radio equipment.  Now this can be nice, but surely my mom would appreciate some compliments on her stellar outfits every once in a while. 

My own husband is on the opposite end of the spectrum.  Since he has started listening to Dave Ramsey, it’s all about the budget.  So if any article of clothing I wear hints of newness, he immediately wants to know said garment’s history and vital statistics.  Ironically, as I am writing this, he does indeed ask me if my skirt is new (no), compliments me, then eyes me suspiciously and asks my stepdaughter if she has seen the skirt before.  It is several minutes before he lets the subject rest and goes to watch Thursday night football.

Unfortunately, there is not often a happy medium.  While I would hate for any fabulous new fashion purchase to be ignored by my spouse, I don’t want to have to defend every single purchase.  Unlike my dad, my husband does actually have an idea how much Tod’s shoes cost. 

As a result, we women often resort to the guilt-laden but highly skilled practice known as hiding the goods.  You know what I mean, ladies.  You go to the mall and overdo it; hence you have to conceal the evidence.  Sometimes this means stashing the bags in the back of your closet and staggering each item over a few months.  But as most seasoned criminals or power-shoppers-with-observant-husbands can tell you, the first 24 hours of the crime/shopping spree are often most crucial to the investigation.  This is no time to get sloppy. 

Shopping bag concealment is no joke, folks.  It involves fast thinking, stealth-like movement and a poker face that could convince any husband that yes, he already knew about the $500 Target credit card charge and he was fine with it.

Case in point, my friend J (all names have been hidden to protect the innocent shopper). After a particularly unexpected (i.e. successful) shopping excursion, J notices that her husband has beaten her home.  This is an easy one: leave the purchases in the trunk.  Of course this leads to panic later, as clueless husband conveniently decides to take her car to the store.  She makes a mad dash outside to grab the bags while he is distracted, throwing them into the front hall closet as he moves for the door.  It is not until 2:00 a.m. that she wakes up in a cold sweat, remembering that the bags are still downstairs.  She gets up and grabs them, only to see her husband has gotten up for his nightly bathroom visit.  In the nick of time, J slides into her son’s bedroom and chucks the bags into his closet before running into her husband in the hallway.

Lurking Husband:  What are you doing in L’s[1] room?

J:  Oh I was just checking on him because he had a fever earlier.

So why do we do it?  We know that eventually the jig will be up and the credit card statement will come in the mail.  I can tell you why:  because when it comes to the emotional process of shopping, it is easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.  And that is why I am logging onto Sephora.com in a few minutes for the special weekend sale event.  Because make-up is a lot easier to hide than a new dress.