Throughout the entire week, as a major aspect of our progressing Shame Issue, ELLE.com will be delving into the uncomfortable, unsatisfactory, and all around human feelings that hold us down. Ideally, by tending to these issues, we can make progress in banishing those sentiments of guilt, fear, and not-enoughness. Here’s to simply letting. It. Go.

The first occasion when I was ever called an adolescent was in the dressing room of Infinity, a youngsters’ store on the Upper East Side. My face was sticky with tears and I was sweating in the corner.

“India,” my mother said, looking through the dressing room entryway. “That is the place we’re going. I’m taking you and your sister to India. Perhaps then you’ll comprehend the importance of truly requiring something, and you’ll quit acting like such an adolescent.”

All I needed €”amendment, required €”was a couple of $80 Energie Jeans. They were boot cut. They were dim, dark denim. I was eleven years of age and I required them. Shamefully, maybe, however I did.

“You need medication when you’re wiped out. You don’t need designer jeans,” my mom said in the taxi ride home.

“However. I. Love. Them,” I said through cry-hiccups.

“You ought to never love something that doesn’t love you back.”

That was my mom’s most loved thing to say. It was the same thing she said to my sister when they battled, three years prior, in a similar car ride home around a DKNY leather bomber coat. She was enthusiastic about this thought that material items weren’t things you could adore. In any case, I guarantee you: I did adoration objects. Regardless I do.

Some may say I’ve brought home the bacon out of my love for shopping. Keeping in mind I’d like to believe that taking a gander at apparel, adornments, and handbags brings me as much happiness as owning them, it doesn’t.

When I see something at a style show, in a store, in the pages of ELLE, or on one of my chic companions, something exceptionally physical transpires (it begins in my stomach), and in a practically controlled way, I start my fanatical procedure.