I love your taste

The bell over the door chimed softly as Tasha stepped inside **Excessive Behavior**.

Even after three years of shopping there, the place still gave her butterflies. The air smelled faintly of leather and vanilla, and low R&B hummed through the speakers. Rails of glossy leather jackets glowed under warm lights, and a whole wall of fur coats looked like a cloud of luxury.

“Hey, babe! You’re back!” called Mia from behind the counter, her long braids pulled into a high ponytail, a cropped leather jacket hugging her shoulders.

“You know I basically live here,” Tasha laughed, tugging her beanie off. “I just got paid. I’m ready to get into some trouble.”

“At **Excessive Behavior**, we don’t call it trouble,” Mia said, coming around the counter with a grin. “We call it… upgrading your life.”

They bumped fists and Tasha wandered deeper into the store, trailing her fingers along a row of fur coats. There was a blush–pink cropped fur she’d been stalking on Instagram for weeks.

“Oh my god, you got the pink one in?” Tasha gasped.

Mia smirked. “Not only did we get it, I put your size aside in the back because I knew you weren’t about to let that go.”

“You love me,” Tasha said.

“I love your taste,” Mia replied. “Come on. Let’s do a whole look.”

In the fitting area, Mia brought out the pink cropped fur. Tasha slipped it on and turned toward the mirror. The fur hugged her just right, the color making her skin glow. She looked expensive. Like main character energy.

“Hold on,” Mia said, already moving. She darted back to the floor and came back with a pair of high-waisted black leather pants that shimmered subtly in the light.

“These are new,” she said. “Butter-soft leather. They’re giving ‘I know what I want, and you can’t afford to waste my time.’”

Tasha laughed, wiggling into the pants. “You’re wild.”

When she turned to the mirror again, her laughter died into a satisfied smile. The pants snatched her waist, the fur draped just right, and together they made her look like she stepped out of a music video.

“Oh yeah,” Mia said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “That’s a fit. But we’re not done. You know **Excessive Behavior** is all about the details.”

She led Tasha to the handbag wall, a rainbow of leather and hardware. Crossbodies, tiny shoulder bags, oversized totes—everything was slick, edgy, and just a little bit extra.

“Okay,” Mia said, scanning the shelves like an art curator. “Talk to me. What’s the vibe?”

“I’ve got a rooftop party next weekend,” Tasha said. “I wanna be cute but low-key dangerous. Like… I look dope, but I might disappear early with the DJ.”

“Oh, say less.” Mia plucked a handbag off the shelf: a small structured black leather bag with a chunky silver chain strap and a subtle embossed logo. It was sleek, but the hardware gave it attitude.

“This one,” she said, placing it in Tasha’s hand. “She looks innocent until the flash hits her.”

Tasha slung the bag over her shoulder, then stared at her reflection: the blush-pink fur coat, the black leather pants flowing over her boots, the sharp little handbag shining at her side. She tilted her head.

“Stop,” she said, laughing. “Why do I look this good?”

“Because you’re at **Excessive Behavior**,” Mia said simply. “We only do dope and cute.”

A mom and her teenage daughter passed by the fitting area, whispering to each other. The daughter glanced back at Tasha with wide eyes.

“Mom, that coat…” she breathed.

Tasha caught her own reflection and smiled. She remembered being that age, daydreaming about outfits she couldn’t afford yet. Now, she was here, fully in her moment, wrapped in fur and leather and confidence.

“You know what?” Tasha said, turning to Mia. “Ring it all up. The fur, the pants, the bag. I’m not leaving any of this behind.”

Mia clapped softly. “That’s the spirit. Excessive or nothing.”

At the counter, as Mia carefully folded the leather pants and tucked the handbag into its dust bag, Tasha watched the pieces disappear into the branded shopping bag with the bold black **Excessive Behavior** logo.

“I swear,” Tasha said, sliding her card into the reader, “I’ve got other stores I *try* to go to, but they never hit like this.”

“We’re not supposed to hit,” Mia said with a playful shrug. “We’re supposed to stun.”

The receipt printed, and Mia handed over the big shopping bag. It felt almost ceremonial. Tasha took one last look around the store: the rich colors of the fur coats, the shine of the leather clothing, the rows of handbags catching the light. Everything in there looked like a story waiting to happen.

“You know I’ll be back,” Tasha said, backing toward the door.

“I’ll have something even cuter waiting,” Mia called. “That’s the **Excessive Behavior** promise.”

The bell chimed as Tasha stepped back out onto the street. She pulled the pink fur coat from the bag and slipped it on right there on the sidewalk. When she caught her reflection in a nearby window, she smiled.

She didn’t just look stylish. She looked like the best version of herself.

And that’s what she loved most about shopping at **Excessive Behavior**—it wasn’t just a store full of fur coats, leather clothing, and dope little handbags. It was the place she went when she wanted to feel unstoppable.