Friday, August 3, 2012

Lulu, I'm Over You

You all remember how I gave up Lululemon for Lent this year, right? In my entry I prophesied that the result of this 40 day abstinence would likely be a Starbucks-fueled Lululemon binge. I'm a bit late with my reporting and I hate to say it, but all of that money that I theoretically saved during my 40 days without Lululemon (or Starbucks) was flushed down the toilet and then some over the past few months.

But recently, something strange and dare I say - miraculous - happened.

Have you ever been obsessed with something and then one day you wake up and you just suddenly decide you can't stand it anymore? One example for me is Campbell's Select Egg Noodle Chicken soup. From senior year of college through my second year of grad school, I ate that soup nearly every day for lunch. Every. Single. Day.

One day while at work, I went into the kitchen, plopped it in a bowl, and stuck it in the microwave just as I had 54852 times before. When it was finished I took it back to my desk, sat down, took one bite, and decided I was over it.

I dumped the soup that day and haven't had a bowl of it since.

This is kind of what happened with me and Lulu about 2 weeks ago. Since Easter my level of obsession had risen - absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know - to the point where I was waking up early on Tuesdays so I had time to check the "This Just In" email before I went to work (and order an item, of course). I was stalking the Lululemon Exchange Facebook group, checking for new items probably at least 20 times a day. I watched the Lululemon Addict blog like a hawk for hints on what new merchandise was coming our way. I even purchased items from eBay.

Then, suddenly, I decided I simply did not need any more Lulu. I had been feeling disillusioned for a week or so for no apparent reason and then one night when I was folding laundry (my Lulu-only load, of course), I went to put the items into the under-the-bed rubbermaid devoted to my running clothes and noticed that I was having trouble fitting it all in. I realized that maybe I had gone too far with my purchasing over the past few months. Maybe my disillusionment was really subconscious guilt.

I thought it would be a good exercise to lay out all of the items I had purchased so that I could see the depth of my ridiculous addiction and therefore seal my disillusionment with the bitter balm of self-shaming.

It worked.

My shame.
12 tops, 3 pairs of shorts, and 2 pairs of crops. In a matter of 4 months.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I then decided to calculate how much money I had blown on this little addiction. I won't tell you exactly how much it was, because it is downright embarrassing. But here's an idea of what I could have purchased instead:
  • 5 pairs of Brooks PureCadence
  • 169 Tall Caramel Macchiatos
  • 3 nights in a Luxury Red Room at the Paris Las Vegas resort
  • An iPad
  • 22 pairs of my favorite jeans
  • A really nice dinner for the entire family (Jason, me, our parents and siblings) with everyone ordering whatever they want
  • A generous fiscal year end gift to one of my favorite local non-profits
  • A pair of good seats for at least 2 upcoming Redskins home games for Jason and me
  • Our entire gasoline bill (and then some!) for a month
  • Our entire grocery bill (and then some!) for a month
  • 33 sessions of physical therapy with my pal Steve
  • A bright new head of freshly dyed red hair every 6 weeks for a year
So, my friends, I can now safely say that my days of horrible, awful, SHAMEFUL conspicuous consumption with Lululemon are past. I may buy a piece every now and again, but the terrible binge that happened over the past 4 months will not be repeated.

I have somehow conquered the brainwashing.

Lulu, I'm over you.

1 comment:

  1. I am at a similar point. I've bought so much in the past year, it makes me shudder; but between the bleeding issues and escalating prices, I am sort of over it. Did you see the Speed Squad Skirt that got uploaded today? It's so unflattering! I think they've lost me, and my wallet is heaving a sigh of relief.