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I've done quite a bit of shopping in the past two weeks.
That's not unusual in my job. Going to the mall, picking out accessories and window shopping comes with the territory.
What was remarkable about this burst of retail therapy is that it was all off the clock. I was looking forward to it. But it wasn't as fulfilling or exciting as I had hoped.
My mom and I hit the ground running as soon as she arrived from Michigan. We visited SouthPark, Concord Mills, Birkdale (twice) and the North Georgia Premium Outlets in Dawsonville, Ga. (tacked on to a trip to Atlanta to visit family) and worked in countless mini trips to Target.
How we shopped was as complicated as an algebra question: sometimes we had unlimited time, no children in tow and no goal. On other trips, we were more focused and on a tight deadline.
Then there was the shopping I did on my own in Blowing Rock.
When my husband and I planned our mini mountain getaway, visions of fairy tale retailing danced in my head. Child-free, we could each spend the day doing what we love. He'd fish, I'd shop.
I could see it perfectly: a cool mountain breeze would gently surround me as little blue songbirds carried my incredible purchases from store to store.
Not so much.
After almost every retail foray in the past two weeks, I was tired, crabby and had only a few purchases to show for my efforts.
What happened to the shopping experiences of my dreams?
I fell victim to a common retail affliction: inflated expectations. Just because I have money to spend doesn't mean I'll find the items that I'm seeking. Or bargains that fit my budget. Or my size in that killer pair of shoes.
I broke my own personal shopping rule: Never go out looking for a specific item, because it's almost guaranteed I won't find it. Except this time, I wasn't looking for the right strappy sandal, I was looking for the nebulous “deals.”
The act of purchasing has been so romanticized, we're being not-so-subtly programmed to expect the same euphoric retail experience as Carrie Bradshaw or Becky Bloomwood, heroine of author Sophie Kinsella's “Confessions of a Shopaholic.”
In reality, shopping is work. There's lots of walking, waiting and interacting with people.
There's even prep to do before you leave the house: examining your wardrobe, identifying gaps, creating a mental list of items you'd like to add.
Warehouse sale a BIG success
Response to the recent Carolina Warehouse Sale was so overwhelming, the sale closed five days early.
More than 2,500 people passed through the space at Sharon Corners in three days, organizer Ruth Caldwell said. Almost $1 million in inventory was sold at up to 85 percent off.
The sale was a learning experience for Caldwell, who says she's on the fence about whether she'll hold another one.
Although some shoppers were angered by the invite-only shopping party on Friday, the wait to get in (and check out) and the quantity of merchandise, Caldwell said the majority said the sale was worth it.
More than 20 boutiques cleared space for fall merchandise, and Caldwell estimates the sale generated more than $15,000 in Mecklenburg County sales tax.
Rachel Sutherland: 704-358-5440; rsutherland@charlotteobserver.com
