Free Have a Nice Guilt Trip by Lisa Scottoline, Francesca Serritella

unlock, yet I cannot bring myself to throw them away.
    I could get locked out.
    Or locked in.
    Which is worse, and who knows?
    I should throw them away, and set myself free.
    I smell a metaphor.
    Or maybe that’s the hotel soap.

 
    Be Careful What You Wish List
    By Francesca
    I just added a pair of Chloe flats to my Net-A-Porter.com “Wish List.”
    By the way, the shoes cost $495, which is $495 more than I have to spend on shoes. But that’s okay, because I don’t have any intention of buying them.
    Isn’t that how everyone uses online-shopping wish lists?
    For those of you who prefer a life grounded in reality and don’t know what I’m talking about, most online retailers allow users to save a list of desired items on a “wish list,” a sort of shopping-cart purgatory.
    I love using wish lists, because then the site notifies me if the price of one of my chosen items gets discounted from totally-ridiculously-expensive to get-real-you-still-can’t-afford-it.
    Okay, so maybe I’m doing it wrong.
    But I don’t really know how one is supposed to use a wish list. Most sites provide the option of emailing the wish list to someone, but to whom? A mysterious benefactor? A sugar daddy? A blackmail victim?
    But alas, I have moral integrity. So my wish list is for my eyes only. It doesn’t matter that I’m no closer to owning that swishy Prada circle skirt, it feels like I am.
    Call it aspirational online shopping.
    It’s the fantasy that I would buy clothes like these, just not now. I’ve even gone so far as to contact the live-chat customer service with a question about sizing for a bikini I could never afford.
    You have to commit to the bit.
    Eventually, the item on my wish list sells out or is no longer offered, and then I’m off the hook. Gosh, darn, better luck next time. My clicker finger gets some exercise, but my wallet doesn’t starve.
    I’ve invented passive willpower. Fiscal responsibility by forfeit.
    Plus, I like getting credit for my excellent taste that goes into curating my wish list. Credit from whom, you ask?
    The NSA must have some women working for them.
    Mostly, I get credit from my best friend. We recently discovered that we both practice delusional wish-listing, so the last time she was over, we sat down and compared our lists, ooh ing and ahh ing over our collections of the very best pieces from each designer line.
    It’s like fantasy football, but with fashion.
    My friend and I fantasy-shop for each other. I’ll email her items I know she would love, despite a stratospheric price tag, with subject lines like: “Getting this for your birthday 2025.”
    By then, it might be on sale.
    When we actually get together, we get crazier, which is the mark of true friends. The other night she was at my apartment, and we got giddy adding thousands of dollars of clothes to my imaginary closet. When we discovered our favorite fashion site had a bridal section, we lost it completely. We played a game trying to guess which wedding dresses the other would choose.
    Of course we nailed it. We know each other’s tastes and closets as well as our own. If there were a Newlywed Game for best friends, we would come away with the dinette set for sure.
    Then a lightbulb went off in my head. “Ohmigod, you know what? I’ve seen the most perfect wedding dress of all time, and it’s not in the bridal section. Hang on.” I navigated the website with the speed and intensity of a CIA operative.
    And then I found it. The Dolce & Gabbana Rose-print Silk Mikado Dress. A stunning white silk gown with gorgeous pink roses painted on the skirt.
    My friend gasped. We both needed a moment to recover from its loveliness.
    But the price tag?
    $14,400.
    To reiterate: I am not engaged, not rich, and I don’t think my credit card limit goes that high.
    But as we basked in the celestial glow emanating from the computer screen, my friend touched my shoulder. “I’m just gonna say it. If you bought this right now, I’d support