We’ve all been through it. The unrequited yearnings of the loves we let slip through our fingers that have since gone far, far away beyond our reach.  I am not talking about that childhood sweetheart nor your high school crush. I’m talking about those times that you are out shopping and you find an item you absolutely love, but leave it behind because you decide to shop around and check out other fish in the sea, or wait for it to come off its pedestal and go on sale. Then, before you have a chance to revisit it, it’s sold out everywhere and has forever escaped your lustful clutches, and you find yourself smacking yourself on the head and cursing that moment of frugal sanity that came between you and the dress, shoes, or purse of your dreams.

I am currently still hurting from the latest pangs of “non-buyer’s remorse” after falling under the charms of this gorgeous darling… the Mirelle Tote from J.Crew.

She was an online exclusive, and when I first laid eyes on her, I was immediately taken with her sweet grosgrain ribbon, vachetta leather handles entwined in gold chain, and luxuriously soft, buttery slouch leather. The dusty pink color is one of my favorite colors, and I knew that the purse had to be mine. But having just paid my taxes, I wasn’t ready to shell out $228 for her right then and there… so I decided to exercise some frugal impulse control and wait it out a little bit. Every so often, I’d check the site to see if she went on sale, and then one day, she was gone. Sold out. No longer in stock. Reading the words, “We’re sorry. This item has been so popular, it has sold out.” was so heartbreaking, it almost caused me physical pain.

The Claudette Tote, also from J.Crew, would have served as a comforting alternative at $175 — although still a bit pricey in my mind — but alas, she too is sold out.

Personally, I believe non-buyer’s remorse is more palpable and does more psychological damage than buyer’s remorse. When you make the mistake of making a regrettable purchase, at least you can undo it by returning it if you kept the receipt, or at least alleviate some of the guilt by giving it away to a friend or donating it to charity. With non-buyer’s remorse, there’s no undoing; it’s out of your control and there’s not much you can do about it except to mourn the loss and eventually move on with your life and hope that you will eventually meet a worthy replacement to fill the gaping void that has been left in your heart.

I hate the feeling of non-buyer’s remorse. Sometimes, if I like something enough, I even consider buying a back-up version for the future, especially if it’s something that will wear out and break over time, such as a pair of shoes I can’t live without or my favorite model of headphones. I had a pair of earbuds that I loved from Skullcandy, which broke and then when I sent it in to get replaced under the warrantee, they sent me back a pair of their newer ones which were not nearly as nice as the older model. They also broke after having an even shorter lifetime than the first pair, and I had to scour eBay to find the original model. I considered buying a back-up pair but Dan stopped me, and I just know I am going to regret not doing so in a couple years…. When The Body Shop launched their Cherry Blossom line (which, may I add, is so much better than the Bath & Body Works lines), it was only supposed to be seasonal and for a limited time so I stocked up on three bottles of lotion… and then the bastards decided to keep selling it (I’m still on my second bottle and won’t need to go back for a while). This is how obsessive compulsive I am when it comes to some of my purchases; it may sound crazy to others, but to me it’s just planning for the future.

The vanished purse been haunting me for the past couple weeks, and will likely continue to for weeks, months, perhaps even years to come. I’ve already checked eBay and other sites in hopes of finding her, but with no luck. The other purses on J.Crew just don’t compare; they look ugly and plain in comparison. A more rational person may just dismiss it, concluding that it was just not meant to be, but I can’t stop beating myself up about not following my initial instinct and indulging in the purchase. Perhaps someday, I will find just as lovely a purse that will grant me some cathartic release from this trauma I’ve suffered, but until then I will continue to pine after The One that slipped away….

P.S. Jenna Lyons, if you are reading this, please please please bring that purse back…?