Pessie flashed a grin. “Trying your luck for weekday clothes? So am I, actually. I thought I’d come have a look if the Ralph Lauren stuff has gone on sale yet.”

“Sale?” Miriam gaped. Since when did such mundane words grace the lips of people like Pessie?

“Yeah, why so surprised?” Pessie laughed, tossing her blonde ponytail. A wisp of hair escaped and blew around her face as she spoke, framing her like a halo. “I mean, I like live for sales. I never told you that? Everyone knows — if there’s a sale anywhere in town, you can bet I’ll be there.”

No, she hadn’t told her that. In fact, Pessie Rothman hardly told her things at all. Miriam shook herself, turned back to focus. “But…” she began, wonderingly, “how do you — uh, I don’t mean to be rude, but, like — all that designer stuff you wear — it’s all sale bargains? Are you for real?”

“Real as can be.” Pessie arched an eyebrow, then bent to check the tag of a deep blue knit. “Nah, I’ll come back in a week, I think. They’ll mark this down even more.”

Miriam stood dumbly. Pessie had just offered her — for free — the secret to effortless glamour. Sale hunting. So that was it. It was really possible to look a million dollars… for a fraction of the price.

“Wow,” she breathed. “So… I guess you must be busy shopping a lot.”

“Oh, suuuuure,” Pessie trilled. “I’m forever shopping. But I always manage to find the stuff I want.” She shrugged, flippant. “If you want something badly enough, you’ll eventually find it, you know? That’s what I always say, anyway.” As if for emphasis — but it might have been mere coincidence — she hiked her sleek black bag further up her shoulder. The gold Coach emblem glittered.

“Well, I’ll see you around, yeah? Great seeing you, Miriam!” With a smile and a wave, Pessie blew off, in a flurry of trendy pea jacket and fluttering DKNY scarf.

Miriam watched her in awe. Then, hugging herself in delight at this pearl of fashion advice she’d just been granted, she left the store too and floated home.

It was so easy; it was almost laughable.

“Miriam, what did you decide about that winter coat I ordered for you?” her mother called from across the living room.

Miriam peered up from her geography notes, doodling absently in the margin. “Mmmm?”

“Are you keeping it?” her mother repeated patiently. “Or should I send it back with the other stuff? It’s almost the return date, you know.”

“Yeah. Uh, actually…” She twirled her pen between her fingers. “Yeah, you can give it back, Mommy.”

“Oh? Where will you find yourself a coat now, Miriam? It’s so late in the season already!”

Miriam flashed a smile. “Don’t worry. My friends tell me about all these great sales — you know, I’m looking for real good quality this time, not just, like, regular H&M style.”

Her mother sniffed. “I’m not sure what about H&M isn’t good enough quality for you, sweetie, but — okay, have it your way. Just… watch the spending, alright?”

“Yeah, of course!” she enthused. “That’s the whole point. I’m gonna find great quality but at a really good price — just watch, Mommy!”

It was as simple as that — well, almost.

The next Monday dawned white and blustery, snow peeking off the fringes of the clouds as if begging to be set free, to swirl gracefully down and send everyone back inside for a scalding mug of hot cocoa. Not cold enough to be a snow day, though, and Miriam forcibly edged herself out of bed, yanking on her uniform shirt and tripping downstairs to the kitchen.

She watched the leaves’ frenzied dance through the window as she gulped down her orange juice and wholewheat muffin. She shivered. Pessie said the real winter sales only began in December… it was still November. Her spring jacket would have to do for today.

Miriam stepped through the front door bravely, clutching her schoolbag. The wind came fast and furious, nipping at her cheeks, tussling her ponytail, billowing the thin windbreaker she wore. It was no match for the frigid weather. But she hurried onwards — and had to turn away when she spotted Dina loyally waiting at the corner for her, bundled in a comfortably-padded winter coat.

“Ohmigosh, aren’t you freezing?!” Dina gasped helpfully, as Miriam approached. In response, Miriam gritted her teeth and stuck her hands further into her pockets.

“I think we should run,” she muttered. “It’s late.”

Dina shrugged, and the two set off briskly. Miriam took a deep breath, let her eyelids flutter closed for just a moment… and envisioned that perfect Moncler bomber jacket she would purchase, come sale season. Let’s watch Dina’s reaction then, huh. Let’s see what she has to say when I show up, wearing some gorgeous, glossy designer coat.

And that was just the beginning.

Brands came on literally everything, Miriam was starting to realize — and that meant that everything she bought needed to have a brand, right? Simple science, that. Sundays found her out of the house before ten, assiduously aboard the subway in pursuit of designer outlet stores where she might chance upon the perfect bag, the perfect skirt, the perfect scarf. And it really was all so perfect, when she found it.

That was the main part of the problem, really — because if she would have seen that all her trips were getting her nowhere and it was all just some crazy goose chase, she might have had the sense to stop right there. But it was more of a gold chase, and she really did succeed.

Like the time she ran to that giveaway sale in Nordstrom, and found the most incredible school shoes, Marc Josephs, for about$30. Crazy! Miriam practically danced home from the store and delightedly presented her find to her mother — who, truthfully, was rather impressed at this feat. Good school shoes for thirty dollars? Who would have thought?

She tapped her way to school the next day, walking on silvery rainbows.

“Heeeey, nice shoes, Miriam,” Dina drawled when they met.

“I like,” Pessie intoned. “Where d’you get them from?”

“Cool,” her neighbor Rena commented when they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

“Really trendy,” her cousin Shaina affirmed, appraising her on Sunday at Bubby’s house.

Miriam could taste the success; it was that real. I’m doing it! She thought, giddily. I really am!

For the school Melaveh Malkah, of course, her outfit had to be just perfect. She could already imagine a soft wool top, glittering faintly with tiny sequins, maybe some floral applique? And of course, a tiny gold charm bearing a brand — but that went without saying, even.

She and Pessie banded up together this time, heading off to some retail park halfway across the city that Pessie’s aunt had told them about. They spotted it, finally, after a long day of dragging their feet around. But it was well worth the wait. The sweater was a pastel grey, had delicate embroidery across the collar — and was every inch Michael Kors. Perfect.

“Whoa,” Pessie breathed. “This is, like — not normal stunning. We’re both getting it, right?”

“You bet,” Miriam whispered, stars in her eyes. She slipped into the sweater and gazed at her reflection in the store’s triple mirrors. “Love it or love it?”

Pessie giggled and tried one on, too. They stood, alternately admiring themselves and exclaiming over the $45 price.

“I can’t wait to wear it for the Melaveh Malkah,” Miriam said, gripping the paper bag as they headed home. She really couldn’t. The grand event was just a week away, and her grand outfit was as ready as ever.

That feeling began niggling at her Thursday after school, but Miriam downed a Tylenol and a glass of water and pretended to forget all about it. But when she pried open her eyes the next morning it was too late — she’d come down with the flu, good and proper.

And the worst part was, she knew exactly why.

“Miriam?” Her mother tapped at the bedroom door, then poked her head inside. Her eyes rounded in concern. “Oy, what’s with you, darling? Not feeling well?”

“Not really,” she responded, voice crackling uncomfortably. Miriam shivered, pulled her covers up to her chin, tried to offer a smile. “Guess I’ll just have to spend Shabbos in bed; hopefully I’ll be okay for school on Monday.”

“Poor thing. I’ll bring up some tea and painkillers, alright? You just stay right there.”

And stay right there is what she did. Miriam snuggled deeper into her comforter and, despite everything, relished the sensation of taking a day off. Well, she’d relax all Shabbos, and…

Ohmigoodness no, this was not happening.

Miriam jolted. The Melaveh Malkah!

How could she have forgotten?

A film of tears blurred her vision; she swiped at them angrily. Don’t be such a baby, okay?

But it was more than that.

Her mind jumped to that precious corner of her closet, to the top right shelf — where a certain much-admired Michael Kors sweater lay, in all its gentle-grey glory. My new sweater… my designer sweater, that everyone was supposed to see and gawk over. This can’t be happening!

Yet it was happening, oh how it was — and the thing was, Miriam knew exactly why she was stranded in bed right now. Visions of bitingly-cold mornings, cowering in her spring jacket; of breezy afternoons spent in a mad dash home to fight the chill — it was all now superimposed with that pathetic image of her dream winter coat she had insisted on waiting for. The irony hurt.

“Here you go, sweetie.” Her mother was back in the room, suddenly, carefully setting down a steaming glass of tea, Miriam’s favorite mint candies adorning the edge of the tray. “Drink it while it’s warm.”

“Th-thanks, Mommy,” she stammered. She closed her eyes, remembering vividly that first encounter with Pessie in the department store. What had Pessie said? If you want something badly enough, you’ll eventually find it. And she’d found it, often enough. Her closets now boasted an assortment of designer goodies — and she was in bed with the flu.

If you want something badly enough. Well, huh.

She’d have to figure that one out.

(Originally featured in Teen Pages, Issue 902)