Bondage

March 8th, 2009

A friend told me this weekend that her new mantra is, “Everything is great!”. I’m trying to adopt that because it’s so much better than, “What the hell happened to my 401(K)?!”. People gravitate to the former and flee the latter. If only CNN would figure that out. But this weekend I have to confess to a meltdown in a parking lot. Before I left home to meet friends at another friend’s boutique,  I’d made the mistake of looking at the reports on my retirement investments and realized I could end up scrounging for nuts and berries just to survive in my old age. Or maybe my kids could just set me afloat on an ice floe when I became a drag on the blubber supply. Gruesome visions of Suze Orman reproaching me for financial profligacy danced through my head. Because, yes, I have been a grasshopper, and I deserve a disgraceful, penurious old age. As I sat in my car crying, I knew I should repent the dinners eaten out, the trips taken, the stupid shit I bought online.  But I’m so tired of feeling guilty for the worldwide financial collapse. So tired of talking heads shaking their heads over Americans being greedy consumers addicted to big screen tvs and fast food. So tired of movie stars wagging their fingers at me about clean coal. So tired of the endless magazine pieces on the virtues of the simple life. I feel like I’m living in a new Puritanical Age which requires me to confess my eBay sins. Yes, I know we’re living in The Age of Reduced Circumstances and Limited Expectations…but every now and then, you just need to take a vacation in the Denial Hotel. So I blew my nose, went in the shop and bought a pair of dominatrix-style high heels that made me look tough and brave and wore them to a party that night and didn’t repent buying them one little bit. 

6 Responses to “Bondage”

  1. Allegra Smith says:

    Good for you! As usually we live in a society where blaming the victim is the rich man’s sport.

    So, the biggest thief of them all can keep his sixty two millions plus and you cannot buy a pair of shoes without feeling that it will send you out into the poor house forever…hmm. Listen to me dear, I am old and maybe not too wise but never look back with regret at anything that at some time gave you pleasure or brought a smile to your face. That goes even for marriages where the frog never turned into a prince.

    Things will get better, we will get better if the morons in charge of the news stop reminding us how bad things are. We know, we know and if they don’t stop and start bringing some sensible report as in at least 50/50 of each, pretty soon rather than pitchforks and torches people are going to start turning off the news and then the advertisers would walk and then, maybe then the high salaried talking heads will get the message that the bearer of bad news…and all of the rest.

    I love the shoes, I have a pair of red shoes that are the symbol of rebellion, I mean remember Joan Crawford’s quote about her shoes?
    Same. Love them. I bought them in Spain in nineteen sixty something and I still have them, and I am still wearing them here and there. They may not be too good for my feet, but oh boy! are they ever good for my soul.

  2. V-Grrrl says:

    I am a regular guest in the Denial Hotel. It is my vacation. And those shoes? They empowered you and the person who sold them to you had a better day too. Now let’s all hold hands and sing Kumbaya and swear we’ll pool our resources (but NOT our shoes) and get through this together.

  3. frida says:

    so great to hear from you and you made me feel much better! thanks so much.

  4. ida b. says:

    I. LOVE. You.
    Teetering on worship.

    Nobody puts baby and her dom shoes in the corner.

  5. dragonflyreflections says:

    This might be construed as sticking my head up my (oops) – in the sand, I mean; but, I’ve decided to just swear off the news. Most ESPECIALLY the financial news. Love the shoes!!

  6. Kathleen Botsford says:

    Love the shoes and good for you! I too am not watching the news. If there is anything I really need to know about, someone will tell me. P.S. I plan on being a bag lady in Tuscany…care to join me?