i took an adventure to fairhope, alabama while at the beach/bay this week. walking into a local boutique a rush of excitement flashed through my body, you know the feeling. everything was bright, everything was new. the white displays and white walls made every single color on every single item pop-perfectly. and then i saw the greatest of them all. the white wall lined of Marc Jacobs 2010 bags. oh my gosh. i just stood there in awe. the darling sales associate must have seen the look of love on my face because i heard her behind my left shoulder say, "aren't they beautiful? it's his newest bags. the colors are stunning." yes, yes they are. quilted MJ bags. ugh. and in a flash i came back to reality.
i will not judge you. in fact, i think highly of you if you own such a beautiful bag (and possess such exquisite taste). but i can't. it's not the bag that's bad. no, not at all. that bag is art. but it's the feeling i get purchasing such a bag. because that bag is not just a bag for me. it's a lifestyle and a coveted object. i realized that bag was not just a bag when i first went to juarez, mexico followed by san juan, puerto rico then kiev, ukraine after that was tegucigalpa, honduras (several times). that bag gives me shameful confidence. that bag would cost me more than what some persons i have met in life (namely in the third world) make in a year (yes, over half of our world lives on less than $3 a day). so for me to buy that bag is to disregard what i have come to value more than that bag. that bag makes me shift priorities. my dreams, goals, beliefs change when i carry that bag. silly me. but, i know that's true.
so really, that bag is not just a bag at all to me. too bag bad.
where there is love (of money), there isn't art.