How can a (relatively) rational woman conceive a desire for something based on a description and the associations created by her mind...finally see it and realize it is not the object of lust that she imagined...yet still experience a yearning for it? It's simply not the act of a sane person.

And yet, embarrassing as it is to admit it, I am currently in the throes of this monomania. The item? A piece of the latest Louis Vuitton/Takashi Murakami collaboration...Monogramouflage...which, in my mind, was going to be tough (yet feminine)...Sergent Benjamin meets haute couture...amusing and earthy and luxe...plus, a chance to add to my collection of Murakami ephemera.

Then I stopped by my local Louis Vuitton store and was...severely disappointed. Though I only saw a bag...and the object of my affection was an over-sized scarf...the colors were washed-out...sad. I left disillusioned.

And yet...and yet...a part of me still wants that (hideously expensive) scarf. What is going on here? The madness has to stop.