No kink...just a vague sense of depressed amusement. The Chicago Tribune ran a story today about the fate of empty "Big Box" stores...the fact that the downturn in the economy can't support the insane consumer indulgences of the last decade or two. Malvina Reynolds' song came to mind instantly.
I think the thing that frustrates me the most is that I have been ahead of the times. I have worked hard all my adult life to create a home and a life that is comfortable. We managed to keep our mortgage and pay our bills when the household income fell under $20,000. We've had roommates for most of our married life. We've furnished the house by way of hand-me-downs and curbsiding. I worked in a downtown Chicago corporate office and wore $8 suits that I found at thrift stores. The endless flow of parties and get-togethers have been possible because of home-cooked meals or potluck invitations.
For years, these habits were sneered at. I was told it was rude to ask guests to supply food, that my curbsiding was gross, occasionally that my suit was "last season's." I was teased about my coupon-clipping and bulk-buying and cloth grocery bags. But that didn't bother me so much, because it was all just idiosyncrasies of Pixie. I was a wild flower in a rose garden. It was cool.
Now? *sigh* Now, it's all the rage.
I feel like my eclectic and unique styles have just been stolen.
And we're all made out of ticky tacky
And we all look just the same.
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