On the one hand, shopping is dependable: You can do it alone, if

In the words of Judith Krantz, a chronicler of elegance, ambition, and the hearts of women, “On the one hand, shopping is dependable: You can do it alone, if you lose your heart to something that is wrong for you, you can return it; it’s instant gratification and yet something you buy may well last for years.” This is not merely a statement about fashion or commerce, but a profound reflection on the human longing for control, renewal, and permanence in a world ever shifting. Beneath its surface glimmer lies a truth about the spirit: that in the small, deliberate act of choosing — of buying, keeping, or returning — we rehearse the deeper choices of life itself.

For shopping, in its simplest form, offers a rare sense of certainty. One stands alone, sovereign in decision, not beholden to counsel or compromise. It is a realm where the individual reclaims agency — where desire meets action, and will becomes reality. The garment, the object, the treasure chosen — it mirrors one’s sense of self, or perhaps the self one wishes to become. Krantz, who wrote of women navigating power and passion, understood that to buy is not only to possess, but to declare identity, to shape the visible reflection of the soul.

And yet, she speaks also of mistake and redemption. “If you lose your heart to something that is wrong for you, you can return it.” What tender wisdom lies in that! For in most things of the heart — in love, in ambition, in trust — there are no receipts, no easy returns. Life does not often allow us to undo our errors. But in the small sanctuary of the shop, we may find an echo of mercy, a moment where regret may be undone. It reminds us that while the world can be harsh, it still offers gentle spaces to practice judgment, forgiveness, and restraint.

Consider the story of Coco Chanel, who began her journey not as a titan of style but as a woman crafting simplicity from hardship. In a world adorned with excess, she chose minimalism — a rebellion of elegance. Each dress she made was a decision, a purchase of vision against convention. She knew the seductive power of instant gratification, yet her designs endured for decades, transcending fashion to become eternal. What she created was the perfect embodiment of Krantz’s insight: that something chosen with care, though it satisfies in the moment, can also last for years — even lifetimes.

In Krantz’s reflection, we see the dance between impulse and endurance, between desire and discernment. The act of shopping becomes a metaphor for how we move through existence — tempted by beauty, vulnerable to error, but always capable of choice. Every decision we make, every passion we indulge or return, shapes the wardrobe of our soul. And though the world dazzles us with its endless displays, the wise heart learns to distinguish what is truly worth keeping.

Let this, then, be the teaching: choose with awareness. Whether you stand before a silk dress, a new opportunity, or a human bond, remember that all are transactions of the spirit. Ask yourself — will this bring light, or will it burden? Will it endure, or fade with the season? To live wisely is to know when to hold and when to return, when to indulge joy and when to guard your peace.

But let us not forget the joy that pulses through Krantz’s words. There is also delight in the instant gratification she describes — the small pleasures that lift the heart and color the ordinary day. It is no sin to find happiness in beauty, to delight in adornment, to refresh the spirit through the simple act of choosing. As long as you do not mistake the purchase for the purpose, nor the object for the soul, you walk in balance.

So, dear listener, when next you find yourself in the marketplace — of goods, of dreams, of choices — remember Judith Krantz’s wisdom. Seek not only what dazzles the eye but what steadies the heart. Enjoy the thrill of newness, but honor the quiet power of endurance. For every choice, great or small, is an echo of life itself: a chance to define who you are, to redeem what was mistaken, and to adorn your days with meaning that does not fade.