I mentioned my penchant for all things maternity in a recent post, but I didn’t reveal the extent to which I’ll go.
Twice annually, the coveted bugaboo® has a sale from its El Segundo company store in Southern California. Along with at least 250 other families–emphasis on “families,” not people, of which there were far more–I was there for the madness, which mostly involved four hours of w…a…i…t…i…n…g impatiently as shoppers waltzed out, pushing overpriced (yep, even for the “sale”) buggies with huge grins on their faces.
I got so snapped up in the melee that I forgot to keep my good sense tethered to my wallet. By the time I made it in though (and I was still in line prior to the store’s opening hours, which only got me in before everything but the stroller covers sold out), there was only one style of stroller left in a hideous eggplant–but more prune–color. I may have had “fool” stamped on my forehead, but I wasn’t going to give into unjustifiable foolishness.
I did, however, score a ginormous diaper bag, complete with not one of the accessories that should’ve been inside.
After I paid my non-refundable cash and discovered the missing accessories, a sales team member remarked, “It’s all as-is. And all sales are final.”
Whew! I guess I was spared the heartache of having bought a stroller only to have a wheel pop off, and I would’ve had zero recourse (and zero dollars left to fix the problem after the mini fortune I’d spent just to acquire the contraption.)
Nice thing is that the bag is genuine leather, and it’s sturdy.
Sure, I’ll get myself a girly bag, too. (I must have one of those nifty Petunia Pickle Bottom® boho-style bags.) But–for now–the base is covered. The changing station is uncovered though. Guess I’ll have to buy a pad myself, a generic one without the matching bugaboo logo. So much for one-upmanship in the changing room at Nordstrom. How fancy can you really be though, holding a wet wipe covered in poo?