For the 100th time I've told myself I'm not allowed to buy even one more dress -- in fact, let me raise that ante -- I'm not allowed to buy ANY articles of clothing (this means shoes, sock, bras, lacy underthings, shirts, blouses -- you get the friggin' point) until I have worn every single one of my 71 dresses.
Not long ago, prior to play dates and potty-training, I looked forward to some Me Time at the stores. The saleslady knew my first name and we often acted like long lost friends. On days when skinny jeans were not feeling so skinny, she had the perfect Prada ballet flats for me. This is the first part of my confession: I have not seen my saleslady in months. As a matter of fact, I feel like I'm cheating on her. Now my shopping is done online.