Lately when I browse Facebook, it shoves advertisements for luxury stores at me. I have no idea why. I am cheap.
In my experience, women tend to break down into two categories.
Woman 1: Great shoes!
Woman 2: Oh yes, these are Valentino Garavani. I paid $1,000 for them. Worth every penny.
Woman 1: Great shoes!
Woman 2: I’ve got these on sale for $12! Can you believe it?
I’m in this latter category. Not that I won’t buy a good expensive pair of shoes once in a while, but I will usually wait until they are 30%. Like the majority of women, I take great pride in bargain hunting. With that in mind, I present to you things Facebook thinks I should buy.
Authentic Decorative Books
Authentic decorative books, ladies and gentlemen. None of that fake books nonsense here. Tied with a string, just to make sure you never read them. This might be the dumbest thing I have ever seen.
First, this is stupid because you can go to any used book store ever and pick this bundle up for about $20. If you are too lazy to go in person, the multitude of small book stores selling their wares through Amazon will be happy to oblige. CAUSE OF DEATH by Patricia Cornwell can be had for anywhere from $3.00 to $0.10.
But the idea that books are meant to be decorative is both ignorant and gauche. Books are meant to be read. It is the height of anti-intellectualism to buy books you’ve never read and put them around the house. Books say volumes about their owners. They are like prisms; they sift through the multitude of readers retaining those who find ethics and story between their covers interesting and good enough to keep. If your shelf displays collected works of Ayn Rand in leather, I know exactly what kind of person I’m dealing with. If you add JENNIFER GOVERNMENT to that, it’s a whole different story, and you and I need to have tea and cookies and talk.
Why in the world would you want to give people the wrong impression of yourself? You don’t even know what these books say.
You know what this bundle says to me? It says you like murder and books with lots of heat and questionable courting tactics.
If one of the knuckleheads who bought this bundle ever cuts the string and opens that book, won’t they be surprised.
Beads – A Sculpture
You know what this is? This is that thing that you elementary school child brings home from school and you hug her and say, “That’s so pretty!” And then, when you pull it out of the box fifteen years later when you’re moving, your now twenty-year old says, “Holy shit, Mom, why do you still have that?”
Three hundred and seventeen dollars.
Get yourself some polymer clay, a length of wire, and acrylic paint and you can make your own for less than $20. At least it would mean something because you made it yourself.
If you like the beads, Peter Valcarcel also wouldn’t mind selling you this pillow.
Don’t get me started on his art.
The list keeps going.
Giant Purple Foot
Well, at that price, who could afford the whole man?
I want to meet whoever looked at a spot in their house and said, “You know what we need, Margaret? A giant purple foot. Yes, I think that will do rather nicely.”
Price: $1,337.60 (originally $1,672.99)
No, it’s not a giant wad of crumpled tissue. It’s a lamp. Meant to sit on the floor. What could it possibly illuminate, you ask, sitting so low and looking so dim? Why, your giant purple foot, of course!
Money to Burn
And finally, ladies and gentlemen, the big finale.
- Material: 100% Wax
- One knotted wick
- Collection: Gomitolo
- Scented: No
It’s a candle.
It costs $449.
It’s not scented.
I rest my case.