I have to stop shopping. Which is not a good thing. Because it means that production of important goods like shoes and bags have to be cut down, given that their single largest consumer has withdrawn support, which in turn means that the shoe making elves are sitting tapping on vacant tables with no shoes to keep their hands and minds occupied, which means these elves will be running riot in our streets making mischief and running off with babies, and giving us back changelings.
Yes, I am pretty jobless today. Also blame the recession. I run an advertising agency. And clients are twiddling their thumbs on campaigns and releases and not paying up money owed to us since the time they were infants roaming in diapers, which naturally means we have to now extract our teeth to sell our fillings for chewing gum money. Yes, I had my fillings done in an era when fillings were done of molten silver and a gold tooth was a status symbol. Luckily, recession in childhood ensured that the tooth extracted was never substituted by a gold one up front, it just lay like a vacant plot until the surrounding teeth yawned and stretched themselves a bit, and basically took over the vacant plot. And current recession and terror of dentists will ensure I never open my mouth in prone helpless position in said dentists chair ever again, voluntarily.
The stores are having to let staff go because they no longer need more than one person to handle screaming fat lady running in and gathering clothes to herself, including those that only one half of her body could fit into at a stretch.
You see I held up half the retail economy of the country. When the economists come on CNBC TV 18, extremely prune juice OD faced, and talk about the effect of recession on the retail industry and the declining consumer demand and its effects on jobs, I run and hide in the bathroom. I know they’re talking about me, and accusing me of derailing the burgeoning retail industry with my sudden disinclination to spend appropriate amounts to revive flagging growth rates.
This also means that I can slack off on the new season look. Yup. These are old threads. It means it is currently chic to be last season. And even chic-er (is there even a word?) to be season before last. Which means all the fashion designers can all give up the ghost simultaneously and wind up their baroque ornate stores with three clothes hanging on the shelves, with snooty assistants who treat you like street turd scraped off the shoe going jobless. What glee. Yes, ye at the Gucci showroom at the Grand Hyatt. I may sauntered in with a Linking road kurta and osho chappals, but I was serious about buying one of your bags you know. I changed my mind when you decided you hated me from the time we were in first grade, and were not talking to me. Now that I’ve got that hurt out of my system, I hope you’re out of a job too. Ye at the Ferragamo showroom, may God make you store manager. Even though I didnt really like any of your bags or shoes enough to pull out the rest of my teeth for.
I am recycling my clothes. Nice dupattas bereft of the suits they were meant for and being turned into scarf tops. The easiest stitching I ever did. I think a career as a professional scarf top designer is the next logical step forward. Then I would need a fancy ornately done shop to house them scarf tops. And then would need to hire a snooty, pinch faced, exquisitely made up salesgirl who would sneer dismissively when I walked in and tried to look interested at the scarf tops on display.
How are you coping with shopping deprivation blues?