Thursday, February 21, 2013

Upon Request

I have written about my magazine addiction before (see Losing My Amazing Race). I have scaled back, getting just three weeklies and seven monthlies. DON'T JUDGE. I've noticed something from my recent magazine reading.

Everything my eyes are drawn to says, "Price available upon request."

I was flipping through February's Marie Claire and found four examples.

This pearl-covered Chanel bag made me go, "OOOOOOOOOOH!" Not because I want to carry it now, but the older version of me would LOVE to stick a lipstick, bifocals and Medicare card in there! In the fine print at the top of the page: upon request. It's a good thing older me will have lottery winnings where price won't matter!

What is NOT to love about these earrings? De Grisogono KNOWS how to make a girl who needs a sparklevention drop her toothbrush and mumble, "Why don't I have those?" The fine print said it all: upon request.

I had a good idea that when my eyes left those earrings and went to the ring on the other side of the page, it would not end well. I made it past the word Cartier to see "upon request."

This tote bag line up also caught my eye. Did I stop on the two bags in the middle, priced around $400 (which I actually consider to be reasonable)? Nope. Did I drool over the bag on the right, Giorgio Armani's $1,800 bag? Nope. I focused on the one on the left. Ralph Lauren Upon Request. DAMMIT!

Maybe changing my name to Upon Request would get these designers to let magazines print their prices? Or maybe I should order every good luck trinket I can find online (like these) and then play the lottery with luck on my side so I will never have to ask, "How much?" Or maybe I should search the Internet for my real parents who ended up with a baby who does not like fancy things at the hospital years ago?

Or I could do the least fun thing of all: just accept that I don't really need those really nice things and hope that they'll show up in a box at my house as a gift from a very generous stranger?

Wait. That's a horrible idea. If I let a stranger have my address, I'd definitely have to change my name and move before he/she killed me. That's the only way that ends.
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