When my first credit card arrived in the mail I felt euphoric.
I was 19. I tore the envelope open, activated it, signed my name and drove straight to the shops.
My plan was to buy myself a treat. I was a credit card customer now, after all. I was a successful young woman with a full-time job and a credit card to prove it.
I bought myself some clothing, nothing too expensive. Then I wandered in the next shop and bough a top. On a roll now, I walked into the very next shop and bought some earrings (may as well buy an entire ...