This past weekend I had an epic shopping trip – or at least that was the plan. It was a birthday shopping spree – with the purpose of finding something to wear to my birthday gathering at NocNoc, and with the leeway to fudge my budget a little because, hey – I’m the birthday girl! This was the plan: start at Jeremy’s in SoMA, proceed to Anthropologie (birthday coupon) and Edition (coupon) in Union Square, continue up to the Haight for Ambiance (coupon) and Wasteland, before finishing up with Bell Jar (sale), Candystore Collective, the Mission Statement (sale), and Collective in the Mission.

That was pretty ambitious, of course. 4 neighborhoods and 9 stores in a single day? With muni? On a Sunday that began with brunch at 1:00pm and ended for most stores at 6pm? I’m a hardcore shopper, but that was aspirational even for me. And of course there was money. I started the weekend with ~$300 in cash, allowing myself, come Sunday night, to have $0. And I did spend some on Saturday night. But even with my $300 fully intact that’s averaging $33/store – which is do-able if you do your due diligence, but a birthday shopping spree is not the time to be overly concerned with prices.

I started at Jeremy’s. Whenever  I go I try on everything in the store, although I’ve  never bought anything from the 1st – and more expensive – floor of the store. It’s nice to dream, but it’s also nice to have a reality check when absurdly expensive dresses don’t fit me. Sometimes money can’t buy a good fit. I ended up with a navy, cashmere Vince sweater, black cotton Vince belted tunic t-shirt, and a fun grey dress in mesh at the top. Total with tax, $226. I cheated and put $126 on my debit card. But that wasn’t the end. At the register I remembered that they were having a special 40% off sale on accessories. And my position at the register happened to be near the bags, so I decided to take a look, just to see. And I saw this:

A decadent 3.1 Phillip Lim Cavanaugh Doctor Bag, in that beautiful shade of blue with black tassels. Simple, yet exciting. Almost unadorned, but with a splash of texture and a sprinkling of hardware.

Even though my transaction was nearly complete I asked the saleslady to retrieve it from the glass case. I picked it up. It was weighty. I opened it and saw enough space for my Macbook. I thought about the orange SFT tote bag I currently use to schlep my laptop around, and immediately saw myself with an upgrade. I inquired about the price. $275, with the discount, plus tax. An excellent price for such a bag (listed on Polyvore for $580), but wholly out of my budget. Or was it? Could I justify buying this $275 spot of blue sunshine? Absolutely. Could I reckon it with my budget? … … … I really had to think about that one.

I thought about that bag all the way to Anthropologie, where I was promptly overwhelmed by…

RUFFLES

And flowers, appliqués, embroidery and other unabashedly girly devices that are the traditional embellishments of Anthropologie.

Grabbing for the delicate, pretty tops I suddenly became aware of a brewing inner conflict. Am I too obsessed with ruffles? Am I going overboard with the girly clothes? Am I shortsightedly buying myself into a style corner from which I will undoubtedly one day emerge but loathing my entire wardrobe? I was concerned, but not so much that I changed course. I seemed to pass through that moment of anxiety unscathed, my appreciation for all things Anthropologie intact; however, when I started trying on pieces in the fitting room I realized my eye had changed.

From left:

This was a perfectly good polka-dot blouse. It fit beautifully and the ruffles at the bottom lightened what could have been a stark top. Light and fun, it could also be professional. But that gaudy appliqué ruined it. It turned something versatile, classy and youthful into something childish, to be worn by a scenester.

The next top – a basic purple t-shirt, embellished with cotton and chiffon ruffles at the collar. Pretty, of course, but so very basic. So basic that ruffles should have made it feel more jazzy, but it didn’t. When I tried it on I thought “meh, still just a t-shirt.”

The last two shirts actually had some promise:

The top on the left was speaking to me, although unfortunately I’m not sure what it was saying. Those are some serious ruffles and appliqués! They seemed to be saying “yeah, I’m a ruffle, so what?” in a really tough-chick kind of way. Like it wanted to be paired with a leather bomber and dominatrix heels (or at least kohl-rimmed eyes). I appreciated that point of view, but I don’t have a leather bomber or dominatrix heels and I certainly didn’t intend to buy them just to satiate that top.

The top on the right however, was near perfection. Yes, there was mucho embroidery but the menswear aspects of the shirt – the tailoring and buttons – mitigated the girliness and made it more casual. I wanted to buy this top, but even though it felt different than the others I was all too aware that it was still classic Anthropologie. It just didn’t feel different enough. I did, however, find something beautiful, classy and interesting without being over-the-top girly:

Anthropologie always comes through. Unfortunately, even with my birthday coupon this dress pretty much put me at the end of my shopping spree. But it was after 6pm so there was no time left for the other stores anyway. I just had one thing left to do: find a bathroom. Anthropologie didn’t have one for customers so I went a couple doors down to the Gap. And oh, but I did I get a breath of fresh air!

Denim! khaki! A utilitarian jacket! Oh my! What a site for ruffle-sore eyes. And t-shirts galore. So many plain, basic, unadorned items of clothing. It was the perfect antidote to the whimsy offered up at Anthropologie. I ended up finding enough cash in the bottom of my purse to get this soft and comfy tee that looks great tucked into a skirt:

So altogether I ended up with 2 tops, 2 dresses and a cashmere sweater. I may have even had $2 left at the end. And the countdown begins for my next spree. We shall see who wins the next battle: the trimmings or the minimalist approach.