I have a theory that the best things in life are usually a little inconvenient.
The shoes that give you blisters. The restaurant that’s impossible to get a table at. The holiday that costs more than it should. The bikini you absolutely do not need because you already own seven, but this one comes in a tiny matchbox and suddenly seems entirely essential.
You know the one.
There is, of course, a sensible way to live. You could buy the practical shoes, book the restaurant around the corner and wear last year’s bikini. You could make a list, stick to the budget and be home by ten.
And then, occasionally, you could ignore your own very good advice.
I’m not suggesting we all abandon common sense. Someone has to remember the passports, and there are few things less romantic than arriving at an airport without them. But I do think we’ve become rather obsessed with making the right decision.
Sometimes a decision doesn’t need to be right. Sometimes you just fancy it.
Take clothes, for example. There are women who save their lovely things for special occasions. The silk dress stays in the wardrobe until somebody gets married. The good earrings wait for a birthday. The bikini is bought in anticipation of a holiday that never quite gets booked.
Meanwhile, Tuesday comes and goes.
I say wear the dress. Wear the earrings to lunch. Buy the bikini in February and let it sit on your bedroom chair until the opportunity presents itself.
An opportunity, incidentally, can be as simple as a sunny afternoon and a paddling pool.
Then there are holidays. The sensible holiday is planned six months in advance, with a spreadsheet, a carefully researched itinerary and dinner reservations made before you’ve even packed.
The other kind involves missing a train, finding a little hotel you weren’t looking for and having the best three days of your life.
Both have their merits. But I know which one makes the better story.
I suppose what I’m getting at is that not everything needs to be useful. Not every purchase needs justifying. Not every afternoon needs to be productive. And not every good thing needs to be saved for later.
There is a particular pleasure in doing something entirely unnecessary and enjoying every minute of it.
Buying the flowers when you’re already going home tomorrow. Ordering the ridiculous thing on the menu. Staying an extra night because the weather is lovely and nobody particularly fancies leaving.
Or buying another bikini.
Especially another bikini.
Anyway, I have no sensible conclusion to offer you. I started this with a theory and seem to have ended up justifying my shopping habits.
Which, on reflection, was probably the point.
