I'm not ready to be rich.

I don't honestly know what I would do if I suddenly became the next J.K. Rowling. I'm not so much talking about being a publishing phenom--more a billionairess. It's possible I'd still be watching the Target ads, jumping on price adjustments, coupons, and sales. I'm not sure I could ever justify spending more than a reasonable amount on everyday walk-around clothes, housewares, shoes, etc. Because everybody must have their 'ridiculous point', past which they simply cannot go; it's impossible to justify. But would it shift if the money were there?

Target has sold me probably 40% of what is currently in my house today. That's just an estimate, but it seems accurate. Basically I'm wondering, how a person could go from spending $15-$30 on a piece of clothing to spending $75-$100. Now I've splurged--I've totally splurged--and it feels completely decadent, and I realize everytime I wear or feel or gaze at the splurged upon item that it's better quality and is special partly because it was a splurge. (In the same vein, I can also look at an item and know that it's special partly because I got an awesome deal on it.) But the fact that I splurged is in my head--so how would I feel if I was regularly splurging? Would my head be buzzing with calculations, regrets, and guilt? Would I ever be able to simply relax and indulge? I can't say.

I will tell you that it was these undeniably lovely little teacups from Anthropologie (my retail nemesis) that got me thinking about this...four handmade porcelain teacups for $128. Beautiful, but unjustifiable (at least to me) at this point in time.

These Liberty of London for Target mugs, on the other hand, can be had for $19.99 a set.

Whole Lotta Creepy

I was browsing through the toy aisles at Target today, searching for potential girly-girl Christmas gifts for my littlest niece (I have no other exposure to little girl stuff), when I turned onto the baby doll aisle. I'd taken no more than three steps when a sudden movement to my right had me whipping my head around with a start. No fewer than NINE baby dolls had turned their heads to look at me, while garbling some baby noises. Yikes! Talk about a freak out! I stood staring for several seconds before quickly scoping out the rest of the aisle for more pseudo-realistic surprises. I guess I should be relieved that my presence didn't trigger a group peeing, thus requiring nine baby doll diaper changes.

Light sabers I can handle, but I will not be going down that aisle anytime soon.
If you don't have time to get to a haunted house this Halloween, I recommend the baby doll aisle at Target...