Jeffrey Gitomer, on the topic of successful sales, says “People don’t like to be sold, but they love to buy.” I think he is right and I think I know why. Shopping, the act of trading value for value, is a rewarding experience. I can’t wait to spend my next bonus on an iPhone.

Beyond rewarding shopping can also be a therapeutic experience. I call it retail therapy. A simple concept really; buying something can lift the spirit and elevate the mood. It makes sense too because the money we earn is a symbolic representation of the work we do and the things we accomplish. Transforming money into new clothing, jewelry, electronics, or vacations becomes another token reminder of our work and accomplishments.

I recently found a website devoted to the act of retail therapy. See it at IneedRetailTherapy.com. Here there is a place not only to buy for the sake of buying in the hopes that it will make you feel better. There is the opportunity to buy products and services which in and of themselves are designed to help you feel better.

In order to reap the purported benefits of retail therapy, but not break my budget, I plan for the occasion. The old fashioned rainy day fund strategy accomplishes this very nicely. Who knew grandma’s “save this for a rainy day” birthday card note would prove to be so wise.

For some the spontaneity associated with retail therapy is responsible for at least part of the therapeutic benefits. Insofar as ‘planned spontaneity’ is not oxymoronic, or is therapeutic, here is a bit more on how I avoid the to obvious to mention pitfalls of retail therapy. I’m not convinced that it is a habit that needs to be broken. I say it is better to moderate.

To help build and maintain my rainy day fund I use a checking account that is at a local bank in my hometown where I no longer live. I don’t have ePay or BillPay set up on that account and I don’t have a checkbook for that account either. Money gets deposited there easily by sending a check or by using direct deposit. Because of the manner with which I have the account set up it is easier to put money in than it is to take the money out. Presto! Remember those ceramic piggy banks that had to be broken open? This solution works like that but its reusable — and safer. With my rainy day fund in place I indulge in the act of retail therapy with confidence.

I’m interested in hearing other thoughts on the topic of retail therapy. Has anyone else safely managed or realized the benefits of retail therapy? What other strategies have Queercents.com readers developed to reap these benefits while maintaining a budget?