Years and years ago I used to read
Harper's Bazaar magazine all the time, but once I moved out of home it started to make me angry and I stopped buying it.
When you're on a tight budget just to make the rent every month, seeing those glossy photos of $300 t-shirts and $4,000 shoes really grates on you. I was livid to think that not only were people buying these things, they were tossing them in the back of the closet the following month and going out to get new ones. Lousy rich bastards. Couldn't they live without one more sterling silver Tiffany paperweight and pay my rent for a couple weeks?
But I just got my hands on a copy of the American
Bazaar and it made me remember why I liked it in the beginning. Fashion at the haute couture level is like art. We're talking about a sculptural,
hand-carved heel or a full-length gown encrusted with tiny Swarovski crystals. You just can't haggle over price at that level. If those designers were worried about keeping costs down they'd never be able to produce the exuberant, over-the-top craziness that they do.
A dress that uses a football field worth of lace and took eighteen Spanish grandmothers six weeks to make by hand is never going to be cheap and I will never be able to afford it, but when I look at a picture of it in a glossy magazine it makes me happy because I have witnessed beauty. It feeds my soul in the same way that a beautiful oil painting, photograph or poem can.
Okay, it's not that hard - blogs are supposed to be fun, not hard work! But if you don't get it, put your mouse over the pic for the answer.
