Confessions of a Luluaddict

I (obviously) have a confession to make. I am most likely addicted to a certain expensive brand of clothing. I have made countless promises to myself to hold off my spending and even gone weeks where I felt like I might be successful at weaning myself off of my obsession with colorful stretchy pants.


Unfortunately, despite being halfway across the world surrounded by things that are infinitely more beautiful/delicious/interesting than my iPhone screen, I have been locked to its little glowing face every time I can snag a bit of wifi. Every night, I have stayed up late playing temple run while waiting for little eBay timers to count down. In the mornings I have been refreshing the lululemon home pages to see if anything new had been posted while I was sleeping. It’s a bit ridiculous. (And annoying).

I’m not sure yet how I will deal with these issues, but they (the cloud of mystery people floating in my head) have always said that the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. So there it is. I have a (first world) problem: I buy too much pretty sh*t that I probably most definitely do not need.

To be fair, I KNOW that I am not the only one with this problem. The steady stream of small packages that arrive at my house every day implies that my lovely roommates may be suffering with the same (albeit less extreme versions) tendencies.



With love, from Istanbul



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