Get Right

I swear to God, if I check the weather midweek and hear "Great weekend! Sunny and warm on Saturday, slightly less warm on Sunday" and make plans then only to have the forecast change on Thursday again, I am going to lose it. I don't know if networks are looking to boost ratings by keeping us riveted to our television sets or if the weather people are just stupid, but it's not cute. What is also not cute is me, sitting on a beach with my friends in a goddamn hoodie in late June because of this forecast. You can also file my appearance as I walked all over Boston today sweating because today was the warm day under not adorable. I left my house with all intentions of walking to channel 7's health expo and telling the weather team that it's especially stupid to biff a forecast when they have to face the public for a whole weekend, but $140 and a hot leather bag later, I found myself unable to get riled up.

I walked through the North End, watching tourists watch me. I then walked by the Phantom Gourmet barbecue festival in City Hall Plaza. At first, the smell of cooking meats was enticing, but then I realized paying a $10 cover to then pay additionally for delicious meats was stupid. Redbones is a short T ride away and they don't charge me a cover to eat their meat, and I wouldn't get seared alive in the hot sun.

I then took a detour through Downtown Crossing. The last time I was down there, I found the selection to be pretty dismal. Nothing cute, everything full price. Today I had the opposite problem. I walked through H&M's sale racks and picked up about four items to try on. I then walked through the rest of the store and picked up some dresses. Since starting so many new jobs, I realize that I got away with wearing some pretty grungy clothes for a long time. While I don't like running up more charges, I also don't like looking like I just graduated from college, so for the next month or so I'm allowing myself to invest in work clothes. All this is to say I bought two adorable dresses for $70 at H&M, which are going to have to last until I'm forty.

After my bonanza at H&M, I should have known better than to go to the Basement. But it's closing, and I figured I'd snap a couple pictures of the old-school signs to remember it by. I went in a few weeks ago and found nothing, so I figured it would be safe for me. That was until I found the Cole Haan bags.

Generally when a nice handbag finds its way to the Basement, it's because it is so trendy that the store couldn't move it even on sale. While the Basement had some pretty heinous trendy bags, it also had some fairly classic pieces that won't look ridiculous next month. I grabbed a black doctor bag and a brown bag. I admired my sweaty reflection in the mirror. I kicked myself for giving a coworker the additional ten percent off coupon out of the Globe on Friday. In a panic, I grabbed my phone and called A.

A is very good about talking me out of a financial tree. "Think about your credit cards. Put it down and walk away." When I called her to report a pile of Cole Haan bags, she said "Don't you buy that bag. But I'm coming down there. Can you find me a coupon?"

I set the bags down as other women descended like vultures upon my lovelies. I walked to Winter Street and checked the Metro box for leftovers from Friday to get a coupon. Other people had that same idea and the box was empty. I saw a discarded Filene's coupon in the trash and seriously considered picking it out to save another eight bucks. As I strolled toward the Common, I started to feel better. Maybe putting that bag down was my first baby step to financial solvency. Finally, at age twenty-five, I'd learned to say no to a gorgeous leather bag that felt like God's butter for well under half price but still beyond my means. As I maneuvered my way through tourists, I felt the dawn of a new day.

Then I found a Metro box with leftovers. I took two copies.

A made it downtown and we went back to the Basement. She grabbed a cute black bag and I found my brown one again.

"That is really nice," A said.

"I don't have a brown bag at all," I said.

"And that will last you forever," she replied. "I'd say it's okay. But nothing else!"

We purchased our bags and hauled them around with guilt as we slogged through the city. After walked to the Pru, we stopped at the Pour House as channel 7 dismantled the health expo. I silently cursed them out for their forecast as I sipped my cider. Next time, I'll just spend both days at the beach. At least they don't have automatic markdown there.