KEY POINTS:
The age-old practice of hiding your clothes-buying habit from your significant other is alive and well today. Those who thought such activities died out when women got the vote or even when they burned their bras need to think again. All over Auckland, guilty women are making an art form of what we like to call "new-clothes denial".
It can start innocently enough by just swiftly cutting the telltale swing-tags off a new top, camouflaging it among others in your wardrobe and burying the shop packaging way down at the bottom of the wheelie bin, but before you know it the subterfuge can escalate to the point of virtual obsession. You'll be compelled to invent more and more ways of keeping one step ahead of your foe. For some women it becomes a challenge, almost a game - less about the end result than the imaginatively conniving ways of achieving it.
The eco-movement has been a godsend to such shoppers. Those utilitarian hessian bags we're encouraged to tote around these days make ideal receptacles for tissue-wrapped items of new clothing. At first it's heartbreaking to refuse those swanky, rigid bags in gelato hues tied with gauzy ribbons that serve as incontrovertible evidence of a shopping spree but the rewards of doing so are high. An environmentally friendly, reusable bag will not only mark you as a PC greenie but it will look as if you've merely trundled to the dairy for the milk and bread rather than idled away a few hours at Trelise Cooper.
You're forgiven for assuming that putting clothes on layby is for those who can't afford to pay the full amount. In fact, no longer simply for the cash-strapped, layby is the latest way of foiling the forensic trail that leads directly from you to your big spending binges. You'll never notice having to fork out $10 or $20 a week until that perfect pair of crystal-trimmed, faux vintage jeans is paid off - but, most importantly, neither will he-who-must-want-you-to-wear- rags.
In a similar vein, the technological age has made splitting large sums into more palatable units easier than ever. The impact of an eye-watering $1000 splurge at a single store can be minimised as follows: put $200 on each of your Eftpos cheque account, Eftpos savings account, Visa card and American Express, then hand over the remaining $200 in cash and the transaction is complete. It's creative accounting at its finest and, what's more, the shop assistant will have seen it all before. You're left feeling virtuous, even frugal. Crucially, there's no damning paperwork to reveal the full extent of your excesses at some inconvenient time in the future. It's a win-win situation.
Undercover shopping is just one example of financial infidelity which experts believe may be a precursor to sexual infidelity. Yet, like all those with an addiction, new-clothes deniers are ready to justify their sneaky behaviour. Some women claim they just want to selflessly spare their husbands the stress of worrying about their other halves' spending. Others reckon if they didn't squander large sums of money on looking nice they might be traded in for someone who does.
If secret shopping was an Olympic discipline then the gold medal would go to my friend, who is a fully fledged new-shoe denier. Religiously leaving the shoeboxes in the shop is second nature, mere child's play, to her. She's way more evolved than that. This woman dons her brand new stilettos and systematically scrapes their pristine soles along the footpath. Then, when her husband asks "New shoes?" her "Hell, no, I've had these for years" is corroborated by the assorted scratches, dents, stone chips and chewing gum remnants on their underside. Case closed.
