November 2008

A picture of the beauty

Sob.Sob.Sob. Siff noise people make when they’ve been crying to much Sob.Sob.Sob

I realise that saying I’m in love with Makro makes me sound like a lunatic. I’m sure it’s grounds for the instantaneous revoking of ones cool status. It’s not a boutique, it’s well priced and it all about mass marketing, gasp. It’s shocking and it goes against all my get-ripped-off-by-designer-items scruples.

I no idea I’d enjoy shopping The Makro Way. I’ve seen their catalogues, visited their website but - until today - I’d never set foot in one.

It’s not laid out like any of my previous favourite shops but they trump all of them by giving you, the customer, a huge buy-the-whole-shop trolley and they make it even better by selling a whack of very cool stuff for super-duper prices.

Perhaps it was a good thing I’ve discovered Makro this late in my life. Maybe it was my last line of defence? The one thing stopping me from utter financial ruin! I don’t know what I’m going to do now that I’ve discovered the Bargain Mecca.

The only positive is that it’s in Ottery and that’s far, far, far away. It’s almost in a different province. Kind of like Hout Bay.

It’s that time of year again. Who knew it would come round so quickly? I, personally, was hoping it wouldn’t, but it seems impossible to avoid. It’s body mutilation or, pull-your-hair-out-with-hot-wax, month. Yes ladies the 2008/2009 season has finally arrived. You should be sucking up those painful thoughts and paying a visit to your nearest friendly wax-wielding beautician.

The time has come to get rid of that, no longer socially acceptable, 70’s-style porn star tarantula. Yes I’m sad to say that bigger is only better when it applies to HIM. When it applies to HER, well, then we have a whole different set of rules. We, as modern women, are required to ensure that ours is maintained with German precision.

I’m sure this is what our Feminist foremothers fought for. Now we’re allowed to vote and have an opinion provided our lawn is manicured or, in true Hollywood style, non-existent! That prepubescent, look everyone I’m 12, hairless look is apparently on the increase. Hey if you’re into looking plucked go for it.

I think it’s the inequality of it all that upsets me. Female nether-region side burns are not on when it comes to good underwear, costume or naked etiquette. While when it comes to men it doesn’t matter. A guy can squeeze himself into budgie smugglers [Speedo], have hair spilling out of every orifice, a stomach they can rest their beers on and still manage to believe they’re entitled to park their plane on a well-maintained landing strip.

Christmas, supposedly the time of love and togetherness, has become the most stressful time of the year. That savior bonus that was supposed to pay off all the debt you racked up in the past year on totally unnecessary gifts is now being spent on more of rubbish. Presents that are going to lie at the bottom of the cupboard, in the toy graveyard, one week after opened. What a waste.

Many of us can’t afford to splurge the way we do and this causes very real problems in our lives. The kind of problems that don’t go away. The kind that keeps you awake for hours. The kind that ruins families and marriages. If you are not strong enough to stick to your shopping boundaries during the festive season then you are, for lack of a better word, screwed. Retail therapy at this time of year is like the most addictive drug, once you start there is no turning back.

How do you deal with it and not succumb to the pressure? How do you ignore the massive undercurrent of want underlying this time of year? I wish I had an answer for you, a quick fix, a solution of sorts. Unfortunately I have nothing. All I know is that you need to be totally honest with yourselves and if you can’t afford it move on. Just say no. A few extra presents under a tree are not worth living with the stress of debt in the New Year.