cuckoo for lulu

I finally caved in.

I've been holding out ever since it moved into town. Ever since it opened it doors onto Halsted Ave. and started tempting me with it's butt-hugging pants and electric yellow sports bras. Ever since I saw those red totes all over town. A store that combines athletics and fashion? I think I've died and gone to heaven.

Yet, somehow, by my own better judgement and self-control, I had resisted. (Sometimes, I surprise myself.)

But then the two greatest brothers in the world gave me a lululemon gift card for my birthday. I now had the excuse I always needed to dip my toe in the water. To walk through those doors and flip through the racks. I knew myself. I knew once I started browsing, I'd never stop. I knew no price tag would seem too high when I found the perfect pair of running pants. I knew I should have brought in the gift card and nothing else. No credit. No debit. No cash. No checkbook. Just the gift card. I knew better. But I just didn't know how bad (slash wonderful!) it would actually be.

$208 later I walked away from my first lululemon experience. Hey, it could have been much much worse. I reluctantly (after much internal deliberation between the bad angel on my left shoulder and the good angel on my right shoulder) had put back two $54 tank tops. I had even resisted the $28 leg warmers, which sounds much easier than it actually was mind you. And I has passed up the $98 neon yellow nylon gym bag that I couldn't help but stare at the entire time I was waiting in line. I had been good! And yet, I ended up spending twice what I went in there to spend.

The immediate damage to my bank account tonight isn't nearly as bad as the impending future damage this store is bound to cause. I'm still longing for those two tank tops that got away. I'm still trying to find a way to justify leg warmers in 2010. I'm hooked. Hook, line and sinker.

lululemon will eventually be the financial death of me. I guarantee it.

But at least I'll go out in a fitness fashionable way.