Credit Card Debt is NOT Sexy

I had the opportunity to watch Confessions of a Shopaholic with my cousins during the Fourth of July weekend. (Note: it is the worst movie ever made. Do go not go out and rent it. ) In a nutshell, Rebecca Bloomwood is a woman with a spending problem that catches up with her.  Now I read the book by Sophie Kinsella that the movie was based on quite some years ago.  I’ve always hated the heroine. Rebecca has never resembled anything close to what me and my female peers aspire to be. In the movie, she’s the bumbling caricature of a writer. Think the loser version of Carrie Bradshaw. Her character is just as inane in the books. Still, the books are addictive, if only for the horror with which the reader must watch this accident-in-progress. (In later versions of the Shopaholic books, Rebecca marries a rich venture capitalist. Convenient.) The books are also compelling because they empathize with every twenty-something girl who has to make the choice between fiscally fiscal responsibility and fashion. The two are not always incompatible. But it’s easier to shop at Barneys, get highlights, etc  if you have the money. (And how can one find a boyfriend without spending a little money? Don’t even get me started.)

Confessions of a Shopaholic is also about credit cards. More specifically, how not to use a credit card. My experience with credit cards is relatively recent. Growing up, my parents rarely used credit cards. I can still remember when they first got one. However, those two with their immigrant sensibilities have no problem being responsible. I, on the other hand, haven’t met a shoe sale I haven’t loved. I don’t consider myself a shopaholic in the classic sense, but I am an impulsive buyer. I’ve never been in debt – until late – but I’ve never been a saver either.

Currently, I owe a little less than $2000 in credit card debt. Which freaks me out. I’ve made my Excel budget sheet. I have a solid plan to pay it off before the interest kills me. But I still feel like an idiot.  Okay, it’s not the $17K or so Rebecca Bloomwood owed towards the end of the movie, but still…it’s not a good thing. I’m not the only one. More and more women are spending beyond their means. Is it because we get them young? Market credit cards better?

Credit card debt is not sexy. It’s all good when you’re strolling down Broad Street in your cute Banana Republic dress and getting fancy drinks from Parc. But that’s not really sexy. A good credit score is sexy. Money in the bank is sexy. Tuna sandwiches in brown paper bags are sexy. A low rate on your mortgage is sexy. Friday nights playing Apples to Apples with yourself is sexy. Not the $40 dollar shoes you got two months ago that really cost you $60 because the interest rate on your credit card is so high.

Okay, I’m going to go balance my checkbook now. Hot.