Indulgence or Investment?

A few years ago I wandered into a high-ceilinged boutique in SoHo, called Pastec, that was filled with boldly colorful clothing, accessories and housewares. Tightly knit striped scarves and socks were arrayed along a large wood table as if they were food at a banquet. They certainly looked good enough to eat. The yarn and the craftmanship screamed quality and the color combinations - inspired by Morocco and imagined by designer Valerie Barkowski - practically had me gasping in excitement. I kept browsing, touching the sweaters and blouses that hung on racks around the room. Peeking at the price tags, I nearly fainted.

But it was too late. I was smitten by this shop's exotic yet contemporary clothing and I was going to buy something.

I returned to the table and picked out a pair of cotton socks with stripes of pink, yellow, orange, blue and brown against a brick red background. They were $20, about four or five times what I typically pay for socks. The clerk behaved as if I had bought a high ticket item. He ceremoniously wrapped the socks in tissue and put the packet into a handsewn bag made of specialty paper embossed with Pastec's logo. I was delighted by my purchase, which felt like a huge indulgence at the time.

Last week, I wore these same socks when I traveled to New York. Notwithstanding dozens of washings and wearings, they had outlasted several pairs of socks from Target and other such places and had not even developed any thin spots or holes. My fashion indulgence had proved to be a wise investment.

Returning to Pastec last Wednesday, I thought I might up the ante and purchase something other than socks. But the prices of the scarves gave me pause, as did the triple digit tags on the sweaters. I decided to invest in two more pairs of socks. Despite inflation, they were still $20 a pair, a reasonable price indeed.