On a recent trip to New York, I couldn’t seem to motivate myself to get out of the far-from-plush modern pullout sofa at my dad’s work apartment in the city. After at least an hour of snoozing my phone alarm, I finally worked up the energy to grab my phone. I was distressed to discover that it was already 9:40 a.m. (i.e. stores open in 20 minutes).

However, the late flight into LaGuardia the previous evening seriously effected my energy that morning and I uncharacteristically continued lounging in bed as valuable shopping time ticked by. Felling guilty about my lethargy, I decided to check my e-mail in a meager attempt to be productive.

After reading the obligatory messages, I gave into temptation and opened my favorite daily ‘Fashion Alert’ from New York Magazine with the intention to procrastinate a bit longer. However, at the words “BARNEYS WAREHOUSE SALE BEGINS TODAY,” all traces of sluggishness disappeared as I literally leaped from the bed. Ready and out the door in less than 15 minutes, I undoubtedly cleared my shortest (satisfactory) morning-grooming time record by double digits.

Not knowing what to expect, I was stunned at the chaos that greeted me. Apparently I was not the only one excited about the sale. The football field sized room was packed with infinite racks of discounted haute couture, designer jeans, accessories galore and shows. Louboutins, Manolos and Jimmy Choos discounted 50-75 percent from list price forced me to surrender to the magnetic force pulling me towards the wonderland of fancy footwear.

Just as I began to tune out the noise and slip into the aforementioned ‘focus mode’, one woman’s frustrated words caught my attention. She said something along the lines of “God, even at 75 percent off I still can’t afford any of this stuff.”

Immediately grasped by an overwhelming sense of guilt, I began to feel like the spoiled brat the sale had caused me to think and act like.

We are in a recession and all I could think about was what a great deal a $400 pair of shoes was. I know that those of us fortunate enough not to have suffered great financial losses should do what we can to support the economy (at least this is what I’d been telling my mom up to this point).

Just weeks earlier I had failed to fit all my clothes and shoes into two closets in my new apartment. I remembered filling an entire over the door hanger and an extensive shoetree with dozens of unworn pumps and flats before an overflow of sandals ended the “walk in” status of my closet. In fact, my mother had expressly forbidden me to buy shoes until every pair had scuff marks (although she was joking, hopefully).

Then I realized something. Thanks to the generosity and hard work of my parents I could buy these shoes if I wanted. However, technically, as an unemployed (thanks again mom and dad) college student I couldn’t technically afford anything there either.

Suddenly the racks of Balenciaga, Chanel, Fendi, Alexander Wang, Stella McCartney and Prada lost all appeal. In a meager attempt to take advantage of the rare opportunity at hand, I thumbed through a few racks of 3.1 Philip Lim, my favorite somewhat affordable designer and for the first time, I failed to feel inspired.

Shockingly, it wasn’t traumatizing. Filled with a sense of empowerment at making a wise decision, I decided the moment I hit 7th avenue that in light of current circumstances (of both our nation’s and my own personal finances) to make the most responsible decisions I am capable of.

Three weeks have passed since I made this pledge. Instead of just throwing things into the cart, or grabbing things off the rack, now I think twice.

Here’s what I have learned: paying more attention to each purchase I make pays off. Weighing an item’s potential use against its cost and the affect it will have on my total at the check out is (obviously) a better way to make decisions, but it’s not just about “spending less money.” Using this method not only eliminates impulse buys or unwise purchases, it also leaves me more capital to contribute towards things I really want (like that leather jacket) instead of filling my drawers with more fleeces I don’t need.