Ain’t that the truth. A couple of years ago I decided to surprise my wife with a designer handbag. She had mentioned lusting after one a while back, so I went to an upscale store and asked to look at them. It was shocking! Just a little leather handbag, with no pouches or any real features, was almost $1000. Sure, it was constructed well out of nice leather, but there was no way it was worth more than $1000 on material and quality alone. There were handbags going up into the multi-thousand dollar range. I got lucky and found her a discontinued Prada bag for $295, which I still thought was a nutty price to pay, but my wife loves it and it’s good as new after a couple of years, so it’s not a wildly unreasonable purchase, I guess.
It’s funny - while I was waiting for the bag to be wrapped, I was looking at the cosmetics. Next to me was a sales lady giving her pitch to what looked like a 16 year old girl. The pitch was total BS (“This cream is the newest thing - it contains extract from iberian monkey weed, which penetrates the skin and re-hydrates it from underneath!” or something like that). Anyway, this girl wound up collecting a few jars of stuff (all of which fit in her hand it was so small), and the bill was over $1500. She used Mom’s credit card, but it maxxed out at $1000, so she said, “Oh well, I’ll use my emergency card for the rest. Dad’ll kill me. Ha ha.”
I would have been happy to do it for Dad. Can’t stand spoiled rich kids.