Supposedly, there are people (unicorns) out there that live all happy and content with what they have (dirt). They claim to be ok with simple things; roof over their heads (rental with leaky basement), clothes on their backs (rags we wash the car with) and food to eat (Ramen and ketchup).
What-the-fuck-ever. *condescending eye roll
I’m not one of those people. Not because I want a lot of stuff, I actually hate having lots of stuff*. I just want GOOD stuff.
*That means I have to dust it (correction, I should dust it…wait, that’s the maid’s job!!).
I buy my shoes from Payless but I want Jimmy Choos. I buy my purses from Kohl’s but I really want a purple leather Michael Kors handbag (rich people call purses “handbags” which I discovered when I tried to Google “purse”) I shop at Wal-Mart and Target (tarjay is fun though) but I really want to shop at Nordstroms and Saks. I want some of that “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.” lingerie. I want to eat brunch at the Ritz Carlton and dinner at Morton’s and winter on the islands with my entourage.
I want a housekeeper, an assistant (ya know, to do all that crap stuff like renew licenses and pick up prescriptions), a manicurist and pedicurist. I want a dude that details my car (my 2009 Corvette Stingray) and a gardener that can cut straight lines in the grass and actually NOT run over the flowering shrubbery. I must have a pool boy for the in ground pool* I would have in my modest 4000 square foot home overlooking the city skyline
*if you let me have one, I promise to exercise, REALLY, I promise!
And I don’t like nice things because of the ”designer” labels (I lie, I do just a little), or the expensiveness. I love the quality, the feel of rare materials, the delicious smells of natural fabrics and properly prepared foods. I like it when someone says “Cute shoes!” or “I’ve never seen a purse like that before.”
But I’m a bumpkin. I wouldn’t know a Gucci from a Chanel except that I do know G from C. I also wouldn’t know fake from real. I’ve nearly exhausted my vocabulary of designer names above. Most of them I learned on ”Sex in the City” like Blahniks and Hermes.
I did get a Coach bag once from my husband when he got a promotion. He surprised me with it, it was fucking awesome. I had seen it through the glass case at Macy’s but never imagined I would own one. It was $258.00!!! I treasured it, till I was at a fall festival and the acne infused angst filled teenage boy forced to be a funnel cake dipper sprayed grease on it. They bought me a new one but it just wasn’t the same.
I’ve never spent more than $50.0 on a pair of tennis shoes or more than $30 on a pair of jeans. I can’t recall the last time I paid full price for any piece of clothing (except my 6 pack of underwear and if all your underwear are dirty…well then you just have to pay full price). My own daughter bought herself a pair of Miss Me’s and I cringe when I see them. $100.00 on a pair of jeans?! My last pair of sunglasses were $9.00 and I think I paid $19.99 for my last watch. It killed me to pay $6.00 on some eyeliner Saturday and I eat off the dollar menu at Micky D’s. I dye my own hair and pluck my own eyebrows. I even have a fake wedding ring because our original set was very very…young and I wanted something more mature but we couldn’t afford it.
Just once, I would like to go to Stein Mart and not have to think about having to transfer money out of my bill account to the spending account so I don’t go in the hole if buy these 2 tops off the clearance rack. I would like to buy the ultra toilet paper instead of the store brand, Lancome instead of Mabelline and Crown Royal instead of Southern Comfort. (So-Co and diet coke please…)
Now, I’m going to go ignore the story floating around FB about the dude with no arms and legs.
Sunny
