For 24 years I had shuffled by without knowing what was a Kelly or a Birkin, much less know what they looked like. Then in a SATC episode, Samantha Jones coveted a Birkin and it hit me that branded bags are actually given proper names. It’s no longer ‘just a Prada’ or ‘yet another expensive LV that you cannot afford’ and becomes ‘you are a nobody until you carry a Kelly’. Something like that.
In comparison, some women desire a Kelly/Birkin like how I desired my 19″ Samsung 913N LCD monitor that got stolen. I am still grieving.
Nah I am not trying to make any statements. I had a conversation with my sister the other day on women accessories, then I went home and googled for information on the Kelly/Birkin. They look like normal big bags to me, like how some of you would think that my stolen monitor was just another normal big monitor.
But I suppose I should be more conscientious about such things. It would definitely help in my case — a single 24 year old female in a city looking for the possibilities of a new romantic relationship that would sweep her off her size 9 feet. Especially after I posed this question to my sister, “Why can’t I get a boyfriend when there are women uglier than me already married?” and got this answer after a long thoughtful while, “You are too vulgar.”
Perhaps. She was referring to my behaviour, ie my walking, sitting etc, but let’s talk about accessories. I don’t own earrings because I have no need for them. No holes, you see. I hate wearing watches, bangles, bracelets and rings because I don’t feel comfortable having things on my arms and fingers. The only gold necklace I own is the one that my mom gave me for my 21st birthday. A while back someone showed me a RM5000++ Tiffany diamond ring imported from New York that she had saved so hard to buy, and it looked like a ring with bits of glass in it to me.
What about make up, eh? I hardly use it. It’s not like I have a natural glowing complexion that gives off light and a certain aura like you see in SK-II advertisements, but I’d could only be arsed to plaster my face with chemical paint when I go out clubbing, or have to attend events like weddings and the first day of Chinese New Year. I am not totally lost to not have the basic make up stuff — powder/ foundation thingy, eyebrow pencil, one shade of blusher, a palette of eyeshadow colours that I do not know how to use and a few lipsticks, some leftover from the 90s.
I love ‘curtains’ — long dressy gypsy skirts because they are easy to wear and rather ‘airy’. But if we meet for mamak, you are most likely to see me in my grey Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt marked ‘Rebel #1’ and light brown knee-length shorts that I bought from the men’s department in FOS. I’d probably be carrying the same big bag that I’d carried the day before and the day before that and the days before that, because all my stuff are unceremoniously dumped in it.
So failing as a female, kan? Luckily I love shoes because in the words of Keira Knightly, they are so pretty. Maybe that’s my only redeeming female part.
Then I read this article and finally really understood what a friend told me ages ago, about receiving better service or any service at all if you trot around town with a branded bag. She worked in KLCC in one of those expensive looking stores and KLCC being KLCC, you have a lot of people ‘just looking’, too nervous to even look at the price tag. So how do you differentiate the ‘browsing only’ horde with the creme de la creme elite? “Very simple,” she answered, “just look at their handbags. Sometimes the rich and famous would come out in slippers and shorts but you can be sure that their handbags are le original designer stuff.”
Yesterday I watched a programme on 8TV, something about three women aged 26, 35 and 45 preparing their upcoming weddings in different ways. The 26 year old one planned a somewhat elaborate, serious wedding, stuff that little girls dream of. Not a dry eye in the house, that kind of stuff. The 35 year old wanted a relaxed mood, and during her exchange of vows said to her husband, “I’m glad I found someone like you, because I really looked” [add facial comedy effect]. After the formal stuff was done with, she changed into a black top and white pants so she could enjoy her own wedding, dancing and all. The 45 year old’s wedding was very simple, with two kids from either her or her husband’s previous marriage/affair up the stage with the priest. Her very old father with great effort walked her down the aisle and he looked real proud and happy and was crying a lot. Mostly because if she had waited a couple more years, it wouldn’t be feasible to drag him from six feet under to perform his traditional fatherly duties.
The 26 year old Chinese version would be 30 tables for each side of the family, 2.5 to 3 hours of a 10-course meal, arriving at 7 pm only to wait for 8 or 8.30 pm. Substitute ‘cheers’ with ‘yumseng’, hand the mic to a couple old distant relatives so they could sing out-of-tune Hokkien oldies, go around all the tables for the obligatory we-can-do-better-than-the-previous-table yum sengs, voila! a very very happy Chinese family. Congratulations, you have done it, you have made us all proud by proving how very Chinese both of you are.
35 years old? A more sombre affair, smaller, less relatives. 45 years old? What 45 years old? If you are not married by 35, you are never getting married and can look forward to a life of community service because you have no other obligations anyway. The four pillars of your local temple/church are your new best friends.
I have 11 years to go.
Then there was the incident with a security guard at my sis’s place when he asked me how old I was.
“24. I am still young lah.”
“24?!? My sister is 24 and she already has three kids.”
If that doesn’t get you thinking, I don’t know what will.