Purse Ponderings

I was in a high end retail store today and saw an ad featuring this glamorous, well-appointed, perfectly coiffed and stylishly dressed young lady. She had this doll face, perfect body and was doing some sort of cute little leap, saucy flirtatious wink thing that women in these types of ads usually do and no one EVER in real life would EVER do. You know what I'm talkin about, right? Well, underneath her image there was a quotation, presumably the thoughts or words of this enviable woman. The quote was something like "I am a connoisseur and not a consumer. I love to be surrounded by beautiful things."

Well, this got me thinking. What does this all really mean? Can a distinction be drawn between connoisseur and consumer and, if so, what is the demarcation dividing one from the other? I hate consumerism but am a huge hypocrite because I am one of the most rampant consumers you will find. I also spend a great deal of time studying and trying to understand the consumer mind and behavior. No, I'm not a psycho. It's my job, ok. But now I'm wondering if I might just be able to call myself a connoisseur. Seriously. I'm not just wasting my money on almost daily espresso drinks. No. I'm a coffee connoisseur. I don't have a harmful addiction to buying new shoes. Nope. I am a footwear connoisseur and the "pieces" I purchase are little works of art that I just happen to wear. Doesn't that have a much more elegant and inspiring sound to it? It does. In the spirit of being surrounded by beautiful things and in an effort to feed my inner connoisseur, I purchased myself a little present today. You see, I got my end of year bonus from work and nearly every dollar of it is going toward a very practical, not fun, totally unexciting and mundane home refinance (I'll likely blog more about that nightmare later). So necessary, but not so fulfilling. To think of it makes me sad and a wee bit depressed. I decided to use a bit of my hard earned bonus to buy myself a treat, to reward my consumerist, err, I mean connoisseur self. Here is what I got. Behold the beauty that IS the handbag (cue angelic choir like music):



SIGH. This is a gem my friends. Shiny silver metallic trim on this bad boy. Plenty of roominess with several compartments for easy storage and access. Just lovely. Purrs like a kitten . . . well, ok, it doesn't have an engine and I don't know what kind of fuel efficiency we are talking about here, but this is one classy ride and it costs MUCH less than a new car.

So, now where was I? Consumerism versus Connoisseurism? Am I a materialist or a Marxist? Am I shallow for loving this bag so much? Am I just feeding into our society's vacuous need for self-gratification via the acquiring of status symbols and pretty baubles? And, if I'm aware of this does that make me better off or worse off? Why do I feel so gleeful while also recognizing the empty promises offered by this manifestation of capitalist fetishism?

I'm too busy admiring the shiny goodness of my new purse to care. Let's talk about it later, ok?