Target Whore

Jackie Hennessey is a mommy blogger, pr consultant and author of the new gift book, How to Spread Sanity on a Cracker. Stop by www.ventingsessions.com to hear more about her imperfect journey through motherhood. Jackie lives in Barrington, Rhode Island with her husband, two kids and Golden Retriever puppy who proudly dons unnecessary but cute paraphernalia from the Target pet aisle.

.

If you want to put it a nice way that won’t embarrass my grandmother, I’m a marketer’s dream. But in reality, I’m a Target whore..

Oh, I said it. I usually walk in to this particular store with a list, but come out with 27 additional items that I don’t need. There is no logic to it; Target is my crack. I’m usually practical when it comes to shopping.  I’m a sucker for a sale, but I also buy “investment wardrobe pieces” like peep toes and suits from higher-end stores. But this store covers everything in between. It messes me up the minute I walk through the automatic doors. It actually puts me in a Target trance.

All natural linen spray for under five dollars? Do I need it? When in the heck am I going to use it? Not sure. Oh wait, there’s matching scented hand wash too? I already have soap, but it matches. And it’s cute. Why should I even bother thinking about whether I need it or not? It’s already in my cart.

If a famous designer made it for Target, if it has polka dots or bright paisleys, there’s no question. I’m talking anything from candles to colored colanders. There are rare occasions when I don’t buy it on the spot. Sometimes I’ll turn the aisle and forget about it, and remember it the next day, when I have too many conference calls and meetings to do any damage.

I can count on one hand the number of times I left Target without spending $100. I go in for shoelaces and soy milk and leave with a carton of crap that costs $97. Greek yogurt for $2.29? My mother AND grandmother would yell at me. But I’m already there, the car is parked. I have 30 minutes until I have to pick up my daughter from practice, so I might as well throw it in. I have friends who have to go on Target diets. They can’t step foot in the place. They haven’t gone in months! Months I tell you!

As I’m blazing through the aisles that are so obviously and creatively marketed-especially-for-women, what I don’t realize until it’s too late is that all of these items are going to add up. No, like some crazed mother strung out on caffeine and cotton candy-flavored jelly beans, not until I’m standing in the check-out line, shamelessly arranging my purchases and throwing a pack of gum on top (because it’s pink) that the cashier (who looks like she’s 12, because I’m 40) gives it to me straight. “That’ll be $127, ma’am.”

What the… ?