We were recently batching several household errands, which included getting a frame at Michael’s.

Now, Michael’s is a weakness for me. I briefly considered staying in the car, but seeing as summer in Baltimore makes such a thing unbearable, I decided to go in to Michael’s as if it were something akin to an art museum.

Treating a store as a museum means browsing without buying. We don’t consider the objects displayed in an art museum available for purchase. We appreciate their beauty and design without feeling compelled to take them home with us.

This mindset was helpful in the aisles of fibers, gear I aspire to use. I’d love to be the type of person who knits or needlepoints but my creative pursuits are almost exclusively left-brain things like writing this blog and optimizing kitchens. Know thyself.

I still enjoyed meandering through the displays of colorful yarn and embroidery floss, knowing that these items were not for me to buy the same way the BMA’s collection of Matisse is not for me to buy.

In an art museum, we don’t touch anything on display. In fact, we stand a respectable distance away from the objects. I believe that touching an item gives us a tiny sense of ownership, and most of my past impulse buys stemmed from picking something up and only putting it back down on the checkout counter.

So I looked at the journals, the sharpened Ticonderoga pencils, the Pilot G2 .07 point pens (stuff that I would realistically use if I didn’t already have plenty at home) with my hands clasped behind my back like a Very Serious Art Critic, knowing that all school supplies are on my nopping list until further notice.

I didn’t walk out of Michael’s with any impulse purchases or aspirational clutter, and I actually had a lot of fun appreciating things that a chain of smart and hardworking people designed, manufactured, and displayed.

Things can be beautiful and useful AND stay at the store.