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Confessions of a Shopaholic

By: Material type: TextTextPublication details: UK Black Swan 2000Description: 318p; iiISBN:
  • 9780552775199
DDC classification:
  • F/KIN
Fiction notes: Click to open in new window
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Item type Current library Collection Call number Status Date due Barcode Item holds
General Books General Books Colombo Fiction Fiction F/KIN Checked out 10/05/2025 CA00029991
General Books General Books Kandy Fiction Fiction F/KIN Available

Order online 		KB103606
General Books General Books Kandy Fiction Fiction F/KIN KIN Available

Order online 		KB103536
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Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

Meet Rebecca Bloomwood.

She's a journalist. She spends her working life telling others how to manage their money.
She spends her leisure time ... shopping.

Retail therapy is the answer to all her problems. She knows she should stop, but she can't. She tries Cutting Back, she tries Making More Money. But neither seems to work. The stories she concocts become more and more fantastic as she tries to untangle her increasingly dire financial difficulties. Her only comfort is to buy herself something - just a little something...

Can Becky ever escape from this dream world, find true love, and regain the use of her Switch card?

The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic... the perfect pick me up for when it's all hanging in the (bank) balance.

RS. 690/=

�7.99

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

Chapter One Ok. don't panic. Don't panic. It's only a VISA bill. It's a piece of paper; a few numbers. I mean, just how scary can a few numbers be? I stare out of the office window at a bus driving down Oxford Street, willing myself to open the white envelope sitting on my cluttered desk. It's only a piece of paper, I tell myself for the thousandth time. And I'm not stupid, am I? I know exactly how much this VISA bill will be. Sort of. Roughly. It'll be about ... £200. Three hundred, maybe. Yes, maybe £300. Three-fifty, max. I casually close my eyes and start to tot up. There was that suit in Jigsaw. And there was dinner with Suze at Quaglinos. And there was that gorgeous red and yellow rug. The rug was £200, come to think of it. But it was definitely worth every penny -- everyone's admired it. Or, at least, Suze has. And the Jigsaw suit was on sale -- 30 percent off. So that was actually saving money. I open my eyes and reach for the bill. As my fingers hit the paper I remember new contact lenses. Ninety-five pounds. Quite a lot. But, I mean, I had to get those, didn't I? What am I supposed to do, walk around in a blur? And I had to buy some new solutions and a cute case and some hypoallergenic eyeliner. So that takes it up to ... £400? At the desk next to mine, Clare Edwards looks up from her post. She's sorting all her letters into neat piles, just like she does every morning. She puts rubber bands round them and puts labels on them saying things like "Answer immediately" and "Not urgent but respond." I loathe Clare Edwards. "OK, Becky?" she says. "Fine," I say lightly. "Just reading a letter." I reach gaily into the envelope, but my fingers don't quite pull out the bill. They remain clutched around it while my mind is seized -- as it is every month -- by my secret dream. Do you want to know about my secret dream? It's based on a story I once read in The Daily World about a mix-up at a bank. I loved this story so much, I cut it out and stuck it onto my wardrobe door. Two credit card bills were sent to the wrong people, and -- get this -- each person paid the wrong bill without realizing. They paid off each other's bills without even checking them. And ever since I read that story, my secret fantasy has been that the same thing will happen to me. I mean, I know it sounds unlikely -- but if it happened once, it can happen again, can't it? Some dotty old woman in Cornwall will be sent my humongous bill and will pay it without even looking at it. And I'll be sent her bill for three tins of cat food at fifty-nine pence each. Which, naturally, I'll pay without question. Fair's fair, after all. A smile is plastered over my face as I gaze out of the window. I'm convinced that this month it'll happen -- my secret dream is about to come true. But when I eventually pull the bill out of the envelope -- goaded by Clare's curious gaze -- my smile falters, then disappears. Something hot is blocking my throat. I think it could be panic. The page is black with type. A series of familiar names rushes past my eyes like a mini shopping mall. I try to take them in, but they're moving too fast. Thorntons, I manage to glimpse. Thorntons Chocolates? What was I doing in Thorntons Chocolates? I'm supposed to be on a diet. This bill can't be right. This can't be me. I can't possibly have spent all this money. Don't panic! I yell internally. The key is not to panic. Just read each entry slowly, one by one. I take a deep breath and force myself to focus calmly, starting at the top. WHSmith (well, that's OK. Everyone needs stationery.) Boots (everyone needs shampoo) Specsavers (essential) Oddbins (bottle of wine -- essential) Our Price (Our Price? Oh yes. T Excerpted from Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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Other editions of this work

Other editions
No cover image available Confessions Of A Shopaholic ©2009
No cover image available THE SECRET DREAM WORLD OF A SHOPAHOLIC by KINSELLA SOPHIE
No cover image available The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic by Kinsella, Sophie ©2012