Now you know that I think that shopping is better than sex.
And you also probably know by now that I’ve been a tad skeptical of the whole on-line shopping movement since its inception.
It’s hard for an old bitch like me to learn new tricks and as a kinesthetic person, I like to touch and feel for quality.
I HAVE dipped my toe in the water of Internet shopping. You may remember my early online food shopping mistake where I somehow read ‘kgs’ to mean ‘per item’ and ended up with enough potatoes to feed an army of hungry teenage boys. So no, my recent forays have not been highly successful.
However, even a skeptic like me can see the cost and timesaving benefits of online shopping. And it is, after all, another fabulous reason to not have to leave the house.
Let’s face it, receiving anything from the postman these days has become a veritable treat.
When it comes to shopping online for clothes, however, it doesn’t help that my weight continues to fluctuate on a daily basis, thanks to peri-menopause. I don’t actually know my shoe size these days due to its ever-changing shape since I had children and the serious start to my physical decline. Some days my shoe size can range between an 8.5 and a 9.5, which makes buying shoes online particularly interesting. Suffice it to say, I can only wear the ballet flats I bought recently if it’s cold enough for my feet not to expand, but warm enough not to need socks.
But with this sudden rush to get ready for our impending move, I’ve been having loads of fun flirting outrageously and selling everything bar the children and the dog on Gumtree.
The other night, I thought I had discovered some fantastic original Aboriginal artwork on Ebay (after one too many wines) and threw in a low bid. So when I opened my inbox this morning, I was ecstatic to see that I had won the auction, UNTIL I realized that what I had actually done was to GROSSLY OVERPAY for a ‘canvas PRINT’ – for other idiots out there, the word ‘PRINT’ indicates that the piece is not in fact an original but a photograph or copy.
READ THE FUCKING SMALL PRINT, LOSER!
So I won’t be appearing on a future episode of Antiques Roadshow in the forseeable future, looking greedy with my rare artwork that’s suddenly worth millions, after all.
But this is where children come in handy, sometimes.
For I have managed to pass off this unusual departmental error to NC, who is a good girl and grateful for anything new that has not originated in Ikea or that the old man and I have erected, not quite according to the instructions. The only condition being that she tells the old man that the purchase was absolutely intentional and that she loves her Aboriginal copy d’art.
Thank God it isn’t real money is all I can say.