preraphaelitepunk.com

One of the side effects of going to Las Vegas is the lingering hunger for more and fancier goods. Generally, I think I do all right, money-wise and possessions-wise; actually, I have more stuff than I really need, and could do with a clear-out (or at least take the couple of boxes of culled stuff and drop them off at a donation site). However, I defy anyone with even the remotest interest in clothes, or trinkets, or even ice cream, to walk through the Forum Shops and come away fully satisfied with their own goodies.

The Forum Shops is where they keep all the designer stores. The fancy ones, that is; the ones where a shirt costs more than I spend on groceries in a week. I don’t particularly care about the labels, but the clothes do tend to be well-cut and well-fitted, and make me conscious of the fact that my silver spider t-shirt from Target kinda, well, looks shabby. On the other hand, I was also acutely aware that the spider t-shirt was only $5, whereas these places sell t-shirts for way more than any t-shirt should cost, no matter how well-cut.

The place that really made me feel (a) unnecessarily poor and (b) incredulous that people would spend that kind of money on these things was Agent Provocateur (link probably not recommended for work access, though, because employers might look askance at people using their networks to look at fancy-schmancy underwear sites). They had some very pretty things, but the prices were, to my perhaps ignorant mind, rather extreme. I mean, I like pretty things, but not enough to pay $150 for a bra. I’ll make my own damned bra before I pay that kind of money. I felt kind of like a yokel from the sticks, picking up price tags and drawling, “Well, gawwwwleeee!”

Yeah, I’m sure it’s a status thing, but it just seems preposterous. I find it hard to imagine a world in which I would spend $50 for a pair of underpants, no matter how special the occasion or whom I was trying to impress.