They say a woman can never have too many shoes, and in my case...bags!. As far as i remember, i've been a bagaholic since i was still in college. My simple collection then consists of mostly Ralph Lauren. I cant wait till my next birthday or Christmas to pester my mom into getting me a new one. I'd feign obedience a few months before an occasion to get my precious reward. Immature as i was, i'd be so excited to tote my new bag for all my friends to see.
That was only the infantile stage of my addiction.
Then when i started to earn my own money from working, i gradually moved on to bigger and more expensive purchases. The R.L. collection was eventually forgotten and became just mere dust collectors. The floodgates were opened to Gucci, Prada, Fendi, Kate Spade, Coach and the likes. My hard earned cash was easily drained with each new loot. I'd get a certain kind of high every time i bring home a designer piece. My narrow brain would feel a sense of accomplishment whenever i stare at my collection which i almost treated like an altar. My siblings were off limits and not allowed to go anywhere near my babies. They know i'll wage war if something goes missing. And i bloody meant it!!! And my little world revolved just like that...
Then entered my first Louis Vuitton...and what an impact it made! What was previously intended as an additional variety for my collection became a collection itself. Like my sad love affair with R.L., my other bags followed suit. They too were abandoned and ignored. Slowly they faded into oblivion as my attention was solely focus on the next L.V. quest. I would have constant sleepless nights poring over anything about L.V. If only one can get an award for the most number of times one could visit their site, i would've been given a medal already. I breathed and lived for L.V. One bag became 2, 3, 4 until it almost reached 20. I even received a V.I.P. gift from being a loyal customer, a globe-trunk paperweight which i proudly displayed like a badge-of-honor. Each piece gave me a surge of adrenaline. The touch, feel and smell of its quality leather has the power to make me smile even in the midst of a bad menstrual cramp. I was a proud parent of these beauties and i could just marvel and gaze at them for days.
My mother and bf started becoming alarmed at my growing obsession. But i blindingly ignored them for selfish reasons. I was becoming the epitome of shallowness. I wasn't in tune with reality anymore. I was living in this fantasy world where only bags matter. When my personal relationships started to get sour i was suddenly jolted out of my reverie. I have been unreasonable and materialistic for too long already. I didn't know i was already causing too much pain from people who deeply care about me. They saw me slowly wasting my life away into somebody with such an empty existence. I was feeding my greedy side with this addiction.
It was then that i realized that i have to put an end to this madness. Material things are only fleeting and temporary. It cannot even hug or comfort me during times of sadness. There's more to life than being a slave to my own whims and desires. Like learning how to make my life more meaningful in many other ways. Enjoying simple joys and pleasures. Appreciating the beauty of even the most ordinary things. Making a difference in other people's lives...and most of all, valuing the love of those who surround me.
I still appreciate beautiful bags, but now in moderation. No more excessive, extra and unnecessary purchases. I'm happily in bag detox now. I don't need truckloads of bags anymore to satisfy me, for i have found inner peace and contentment. And i can boldly shout and declare to the world that i could survive with even just one bag, my favorite Louis Vuitton bag of all time...my Manhattan GM.
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