My tortured love affair with shopping

By Pamela Druckerman

In a shoe shop in Paris recently, I watched a young Chinese woman struggle to choose between two pairs of practically identical trainers. An exasperated sales assistant muttered that the shopper had been there for two hours. When the woman finally left, carrying one pair (but still looking uncertain) I urged the sales staff to be sympathetic. “It’s la maladie du shopping,” I said.

I should know. I have a version of shopping sickness, too. I’m certain of my purchase while I’m in the store but by the next day – or at 3am – I regret it. Usually I sheepishly bring the item back, then fret about my envelope of about-to-expire store credits. Even using a credit doesn’t end the agony: I can spend the same €80 multiple times. (Salespeople cringe when I walk in again.)