Do you ever worry that you might one day become fabulously rich, and then have no idea what to spend all your money on? If so, help is available. The Financial Times publishes a glossy supplement every month just in the time for the weekend with the no-holds barred title How To Spend It. Here are some of the highlights of last Friday’s issue. A set of six Fortnum & Mason Royal Velvet crackers for £500 (“contain luxury accessories”). An Atelier winter coat, from £1,100 up to £2,880 for the rose-trimmed design (is it just me, or is that the most hideous fucking garment you’ve ever seen in your life?). A tube of anti-ageing cream called Pure Alchemy Cellular Radiance Serum for £19.99 (“really seems to work,” according to the FT, so if you meet one of their hacks who claims to be 40 but looks 18, that’ll be Lucia van der Post). A Jaeger-LeCoultre Hybris Mechanica à Grande Sonnerie, part of the Coffret 55 set (otherwise known to you and me as ‘a wristwatch’), starting from £1.6 million. Tsk, like it's too much trouble to ask a passer-by what time it is.
Also available, should you be feeling flush, is a Salvatore Ferragamo python bag for £2,009 (not just the python getting gouged there). An 18ct Jackie O gold cuff for £15,000 that looks like a gaudy kids’ fancy dress item. Or you can follow in the tyre-tracks of a bloke called Tarquin (even within the context of this magazine, you have to feel sorry for any poor bastard called Tarquin), who goes ice driving in Finland for £900, plus £433 per night in a luxury log cabin for six. Thirteen quid for a Romeo Short Churchill cigar seems like a relatively bargain way to watch your cash go up in smoke.
Best of all is a six-month course of counselling for male business executives who are going through a mid-life crisis. It costs between £6-12k from a company called Overton Smith, run by two sympathetic women who “have no formal therapeutic qualifications” (hey, who needs them?). The magazine interviews one of the company’s clients, a 54-year-old named “Dennis”, who went for help when he realised that he was unhappy being “surrounded by unnecessary stuff. I started questioning the purpose of my life. I realised materialism isn’t as important as relationships and quality of life.”
What, you mean the answer doesn’t lie in owning a pair of 8 grand cufflinks from Wartski? I’m going to have to use up my 10-week Alpine ski lodge timeshare slot all in one go to recover from that monstrous revelation. Note to self: don’t forget to take off your £1.6 million watch before you climb into the mountain-view hot tub.
6 comments:
These media types either like to rub our relative poverty in our faces, or they are not acquainted with real life after a professional life if too much freebies. All these "lifestyle" articles make me feel like Morrissey about disco music. Hang the blessed lifestyle editor!
It would be a great gig to write about £1.6 million watches and get a freebie every time - you could retire after about a month. Not that I'm against freebies, speaking as a journalist. I still keep my neck warm every winter with my Major League Soccer 2006 All-Star Game scarf. But at the lower end hacks are more cussed - a free gift is more likely to make us extra critical, just to prove we can't be bought.
Stay-At-Home Indie-Pop: Thanks for the commnent on http://www.branchpastor.com/2009/12/my-theme-song.html
The lyrics become less trite when I sing them from my own experience.
Just like beauty is in the eye of the beholder... Lyrics get sanctified in the mouth of the Believer.
What is my "Walk on" moment? Read my story here and judge for yourself: http://www.branchpastor.com/2007/08/defining-providence.html
Oh... and when you meet Bono in Heaven you can ask him what his "Walk on" story is.
I wouldn't buy any of that stuff, but I'd really like to meet the people who do. I have some authentic jungle artifacts they might be interested in.
I think if I made it all the way to heaven only to find that sanctimonious twat Bono there too, my next move would be to have a 'Walk Off' moment down to the more welcoming furnaces of merry hell.
Bono turns up in Heaven, Jesus leads the walk out. God tips off The Edge in time.
I like to think my fellow journos are goading the masses to revolt by parading these decadent baubles, but suspect they are just a bunch of dead-eyed wage geckos like m'good self.
Here's to music, friendship, decent booze and a pie for every table!
Post a Comment