I know I said that Valentine's Day doesn't mean much to me - and it really doesn't.
But it's a great excuse to go out and buy something you've sort of fallen for. I won't say "fallen in love with" though, because that requires a certain amount of time and care. Buying something on Valentine's Day is mostly for that high that instant gratification gives you; you just have to hope it lasts you until February 15th.
My last Valentine's Day purchase was a pair of black, pointy-toed, stiletto shoes one year in college. They're predictably impractical and the thought of dancing, drinking, and bar-hopping-induced blisters still makes me cringe, despite the fact that they're plenty broken in. Still, I don't regret buying them, and they've given me more than a simple 24-hour shopper's high.
Since then, though, I could never justify a Valentine's Day purchase precisely because it was only to make myself feel better for a few hours about a silly "holiday." Valentine's Day, and all the glittery, red, heart-shaped boxes of chocolates that come with it, wins if you have to spend your money to make yourself feel better due to supposedly miserable single-dom. Valentine's Day could not win.
...Until yesterday. For what it's worth, I was planning this for a while, and it just so happened that my intended date of purchase [I was hoping mid-January] ran into this month. Okay, I admit that I did sort of figure it'll make Valentine's Day a little more significant this year...but it really wasn't for any kind of instant gratification.
Besides, I'm not actually going to be able to see or touch whatever I purchased until later this week, at the earliest. And this really wasn't a totally spontaneous decision either; I'm pretty sure this is going to last me a few solid years, and it's not nearly as impractical as those stilettos.
Although, uncharacteristically, I am anticipating [just a little, tiny bit] falling in love.