True story: Joe called me at work almost two weeks ago and said "I think it's time for you to buy the 2.55". That day, we received this piece of mail from Neiman Marcus which included a $300 gift card toward the purchase of any Chanel handbag during October 1-4 plus triple points on your Neiman's card. I totally thought he was playin', but his voice sounded super serious and kind of nervous (which is how I knew he meant business).
Before I continue, let's take a step back and appreciate the gravity of this situation: $300 off a Chanel bag at Neiman's?! Times must really be tough. They're practically GIVING the things away! I hung up with Joe and immediately called Stacy, my Chanel SA at NM, who said she could get a jumbo caviar 2.55 with gold hardware in the store before the promotion expired (she also mentioned that most husbands would've thrown the mail away much less called their wives to encourage such a purchase). Just like that, the wheels of luxury were in motion.
Fast forward to Sunday, October 4, 2009. Was this unseasonably warm day necessarily the best time for me to drop a serious chunk of change on a new bag? Probably not. But when would be a better time? When I have a mortgage, a baby and a poodle? I doubt Neiman's is going to keep sending me significant gift cards, so why not take advantage of this opportunity? I mean, after the gift card, the store basically paid ME to take the little guy home. And haven't I dreamed of owning this bag long enough?
Almost two years to the day when I purchased my first Chanel bag (I can use that term with confidence now), I glided into Neiman's with purpose yet again - this time as a wiser married lady - with freshly applied lip gloss. The process was much quicker the second around (I think I'm becoming more skilled at spending larger sums of money in single sittings). A quick look at the bag out of the box, a short demonstration to Joe of how you can wear it with (1) two straps on the shoulder, (2) one long strap on the shoulder, or (3) one long strap as a messenger bag across the body, and we were good to go.
After I sealed the deal, we headed up to shoes so I could continue pretending that every Sunday I buy luxury handbags and mull over $800 platforms (actually, the mulling over platforms part is accurate). Just like clockwork, who calls me (to rain on my parade, I assume)? DAD. "Oh crap!" I said aloud while glancing at my phone in one hand and holding up a pair of patent ruby red Louboutin platforms in the other - "It's like he knows what I'm doing" (probably because his "Queenie must've just spent way too much money on something" radar had just gone off). But no, he was calling to attempt to persuade me (yet again) to send a tape of me playing softball to the Phillies as my application to become a ball girl. Maybe next year, Dad.
A few photos of the most gorgeous bag I've ever hugged:
Once the dust had settled, Joe convinced me to go crazy and hit up Maggiano's to celebrate this momentous occasion (this is what most people do after they buy Chanel, right?) but only after he snapped a quick photo in the parking lot:
The sun was setting over scenic King of Prussia, PA, and I was happy as a clam with my new bag. But here's the big question: now what will I obsess over?