Saturday, August 19, 2006


Maybe it's the immigrant in me, or maybe it's my innate cheapness, but I can't stop myself from checking out all the sales recently. Thanks to a non-professional job, I've been abusing my lunch breaks with tons of excursions into discount clothing stores and some not-so-discount ones. My biggest transgression was at Zara's, where I bought a blouse at full-price.

Standing in line, I spyed a Chinese woman who looks like she could be a model, shopping with her boyfriend/ATM in tow. She had on a beautiful outfit, a sheer camisole topped with a glittery cardigan, paired with skinny black pants. The whole effect was pretty posh, except for her feet, which despite being hoisted on top of a pair of platform wedges, were covered in bandages. I was glad to find one flaw with her, but was secretly envious of her lifestyle and shopping spree. I felt like this must be routine for her and hardly such for me.

I could go look for a rich boyfriend I suppose, but how would I be different from some of the girls I know in China who use the men in their life for bill-paying purposes and live like parasites?

If I were honest with myself, it's not even the moral part of this...I feel icky even thinking about degrading myself just for a Chloe top. For now, I'll stick with knock-offs and Old Navy.