{"id":8000,"date":"2010-11-10T10:01:55","date_gmt":"2010-11-10T15:01:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wendybrandes.com\/blog\/?p=8000"},"modified":"2011-01-05T14:28:23","modified_gmt":"2011-01-05T19:28:23","slug":"what-wendy-wore-the-pain-of-non-buyers-remorse","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.wendybrandes.com\/blog\/2010\/11\/what-wendy-wore-the-pain-of-non-buyers-remorse\/","title":{"rendered":"What Wendy Wore: Alleviating Non-Buyer’s Remorse"},"content":{"rendered":"

I rarely suffer from buyer’s remorse<\/a>.<\/p>\n

In the past five years, there have been two inexpensive vintage dresses from eBay that even the talented Jean of Ghost Tailor<\/a> couldn’t get to fit right. Then there was one unflattering dress — Oscar de la Renta, I believe — that a vintage-store owner with whom I’d had a long business relationship schmoozed me into, despite my very vocal worries that Jean couldn’t redeem it. She couldn’t and the store owner wouldn’t make an exception to his no-return policy. (I later sold the dress through my friend Evan at Frock<\/a>.)<\/p>\n

Other than those instances, most fashion acquisitions turn out well for me, though I am sometimes in sticker shock during the purchase. I was terrified when I spent $300 on a pair of Prada Mary Janes in the mid-’90s<\/a>, but I still wear them 15 years later. I’m not going to admit how much I paid for the gray, ruffled, beribboned Valentino sweater seen in the 2007 photo below, but I love the sweater more and more as the years go by. I’d rather have this one beautiful Valentino than 100 ordinary J. Crew sweaters<\/a> — or a thousand Forever 21 sweaters.<\/p>\n

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At Hever Castle in England.<\/p><\/div>\n

I’m much more likely to experience non-buyer’s remorse. Sometimes it happens because I don’t find out about a thing of beauty<\/a> until it’s too late. This weekend, I fell in love with the glitter Jeffrey Campbell Lita platforms on Hippie Couture<\/a>‘s blog. I could see the Runaways<\/a> wearing these. But, more importantly, I could see me wearing them … except both styles are sold out in my size everywhere. If Hippie Couture wears a 6.5, she better hope she doesn’t across me in a dark alley because I will mug her feet.<\/p>\n

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The boot version, courtesy Hippie Couture.<\/p><\/div>\n

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The shoe version, courtesy Hippie Couture.<\/p><\/div>\n

More typically, my non-buyer’s remorse stems from momentary miserliness. This year, I passed on rainbow Ferragamo wedges<\/a> because they seemed too expensive, before I realized that they were $106,497,500 less than a Picasso<\/a> and, therefore, relatively affordable. Back in 2006, it was the huggable-looking Fendi\/Moncler Spy bag that was the target of my tightwad ways.<\/p>\n

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Fendi\/Moncler Spy bag, courtesy PurseBlog.<\/p><\/div>\n

I adored that bag. I tracked it as it was marked down on Bluefly, but decided it could go lower. Instead, it sold out and I’ve been stalking it on eBay ever since.<\/p>\n

In 2003, Philip Treacy’s Warhol hats<\/a> caught my eye. I passed on those for a few reasons:<\/p>\n