WHEN Lucy Fitzgerald climbed the stone steps of Knocklyon House, a three storey Georgian mansion in the suburbs of Dublin, and admitted to Maura she had shopped till she dropped, it was no joking matter. Ms Russell is the assistant director of Knocklyon House, better known as The Rutland Centre, a treatment centre for addictions. While compulsive shopping is not widely treated in Ireland, it is now recognised as an addiction and joins alcohol, drug, gambling and food disorders as a serious emotional and mental obsession which requires professional help.
"I thought you had to be Imelda Marcos to confess to being a shopaholic but after my last binge I realised I had a real problem and that I needed help," says 36 year old Lucy (not her real name) who earns £40,000 a year and is in serious debt. Recounting her last frenzied fashion bonanza, she revealed: "I started the morning at the top of Grafton Street promising myself I would only buy a pair of shoes and a summer dress. Before lunch, I'd spent £400 in Jigsaw, £700 across the road at Firenze and more than £1,000 in Brown Thomas. Without looking at the price tag I had spent £500 on a DKNY white plastic mac." The sizzle to Lucy's credit card was a minor symptom of the problem.
"When I returned home, I collapsed in a heap of tears. I knew I didn't need any of things I had bought, I couldn't afford to pay for them and I didn't know bow I was going to explain this to my partner. Once again, I'd lost complete control. I felt I was losing my mind. I had hit my rock bottom," she admits one year after her last Olympic size shopping spree.
Few of us could dispute the therapy of an afternoon's shopping. The timeless dance from shop to shop, waltzing between rails of untouched clothes, honing a magpie eye for the shining gem in the collection. And then allowing your fingers to do the walking, plucking the bundle of loveliness from its lonely hanger and claiming it as yours. Shopping is exciting, sexy and fun and retailers have sharpened their antennae to create a suitably seductive environment.
But while most people can manage their spending, for some a step inside a shop can have all the devastating effects of a drink for an alcoholic. Kathy is another compulsive shopper.
"Whenever I needed a lift I took off into town and spent the day shopping. Brown Thomas was a favourite where I would start on the ground floor and work my way up to Private Lives. As soon as I walked through the doors of the store, my heart would race and I would quite simply take leave of my senses." For the likes of Kathy, a journey through the scented wall to wall carpeted dream of steel rails dripping in designer labels can be a living nightmare.
"I spent £7,000 on my last spending spree, she says, "and my husband threatened to leave me if I didn't seek help. At first I thought I could control it but without help I realised it was impossible. I now keep a diary of everything I spend and I'm managing my addiction on a daily basis."
IN the 1990s, shopping has become an important pleasure and leisure pursuit. Its combination of wonderment and private gratification makes active consumerism the most indulgent of sensory experiences.
"When I show my clothes, I can see women lick their lips in anticipation of wrapping beautiful fabrics around themselves," comments fashion designer Pat Crowley.
It has been proven that the frisson of a clothes shopping adventure stimulates dopamine and seratonin secretions in the body, which then produce a sense of well being. The effect is similar to the kick from a first glass of champagne or the thrill of driving a sports car. But like any compulsive behaviour, the "highs" are said to become harder to achieve over time and a stage is eventually reached where no amount of spending can satisfy the obsession. One sufferer ended taking out a second mortgage of £80,000 to support her requirements.
For some troubled shoppers, the solution can be found in a pill. In tests, the antidepressant Fluvoxamine (marketed in Ireland as Faverin) has been shown to help nine out of 10 compulsive shoppers who suffer from a low level of the neurotransmitter serotonin. But some addiction counsellors take a dim view of using medication.
"In an emergency, pills can be administered to treat the symptom but on their own, they're only an attempt to short circuit the real underlying emotional problems which need to be looked at," argues Maura Russell from the Rutland Centre.
Adrian Lee, director at the Promis Counselling Centre in Kent and London which also offers help to compulsive shoppers, supports Russell's broad view on the causes of the addiction. "The concentration by society on a materialist fantasy world is the problem," he says. "People no longer have a spiritual base and it is this void they attempting to fill."
Pat Crowley admits she has some American customers who are compulsive shoppers. "I have one client who cannot resist spending thousands of dollars on one visit. A week later I expect to get a call from her in tears begging me to take the clothes back. The lady is clearly not well and needs professional help."
In the US, where Mrs Crowley conducts a large part of her business, compulsive shopping is accepted as a widespread disorder. "From sitting with my clients, I've learnt people go to Compulsive Shopping Anonymous meetings and apply themselves to the 12 step programme set out for alcoholics and drug addicts," the designer says from her Dublin based shop.
In Ireland, the treatment of shopping addiction is still in its infancy. "We haven't had many compulsive shopping clients on our six week programme," says Maura Russell, but a good addiction counsellor could help anyone seeking help."
What makes one person a compulsive shopper and another just a dedicated follower of fashion? One clear sign is someone buying several variations of the same item and/or when shopping becomes a preoccupation to lift feelings of depression, suggests Russell.
According to Sara, another compulsive shopper, there is always a fine line. "I used to be able to go into a shop, buy a few items and then leave. But it got to the stage where I couldn't stop. I used to fly to London for two days' shopping." Bond Street was her nirvana. Indulging a fit of euphoric recall she says: "I'd start in Versace's four storied emporium. Then I'd pop across the road to DKNY, spend a fortune and down an expresso before a trip into Tiffany's. I'd usually finish in Ralph Lauren after treating myself to a little silk something from Courtney's around the corner on Brook Street ... Once I went to London and flew home with three silver Gucci measuring tapes."