I should probably preface this by telling you all that I have a new position at work. Sorry I'm a slacker for not telling you that I am the new "career development coordinator" at [my company]. What does that mean exactly? Well it's a brand new position so we're still figuring it out. Basically, I'm helping our graduates get placed in salons and spas in the area and hopefully even outside the area. I'm putting together a career fair to help build relationships between our school and potential employers. I'm also going to be working with local highschools to get hs grads into our school. So that's my new position. Back to the story...
Yesterday I was to visit several salons/spas in the Cherry Creek area to let them know about our school, why we're so great, and why they should want to hire our graduates. I've heard enough about Cherry Creek to have my prejudices. If you're not from the area, Cherry Creek is a place where wealthy people segregate themselves from the rest of the world, so they can see who can put their nose highest in the air, it's also a place where wealthy coloradans pretend like they're shopping on rodeo drive, and everyone drives luxury cars. With this in mind I thought I should "dress it up" a bit. I slapped on my costume and mask but when I got there I realized I was fooling no one. With x-ray vision they see right through to the tag on your clothes and mine said "not designer". I think the fact that I walked like a normal person and less like I had a stick up my ass also gave it away. One of the salons I walked into had a particularly snooty owner with a really stupid accent that he forced to make himself feel cool. His judging little eyes made me feel icky so I ran out quickly. Back outside I was appreciating the warm sun and fresh air when I turned a corner and ran into a girl with a dog. She was wearing an outfit that screamed "i paid way too much for this, I'm a stupid whore". Okay, that last part might have been a stretch of prejudice but then she opened her mouth and confirmed it. She said to her dog, "come on Botox." I thought, "Surely, I imagined that". But then she said it again "Botox, this way, Botox over here..."
I began tapping my heels together and saying "there's no place like home, there's no place like home"... Clearly I do not belong in places like Cherry Creek. I concluded that in my previous life I must have traded my Tiffany and Prada for something more real, like a soul.
I was so happy to leave there. I came home ripped off my costume and reveled in the knowledge that I not only know who I am underneath it all I'm proud of it.
Dan and I once had the privelage of staying with an uber-wealthy individual for a fews days in Steamboat a few years ago. During our stay the guy took us out to dinner at this real fancy Swiss restaurant in town. Our dinner conversation turned to clothing at one point and Dan and I both began talking about how great the thrift store was. The uber-wealthy gentleman (who had once purchased an entire town only to gain from the investment a fireworks license) looked at us flabergasted. He could not believe that we would go and buy clothing actually worn by other people. I'll never forget the look on his face when I told him the shirt I was wearing was purchased for $1.00.
Some people never understand that there's more to life than money.
Posted by: -dominic at December 21, 2005 10:59 AMI always joke that I want a pomeranian puppy in a Louis Vuitton bag for xmas. Now, I feel a little dirty for even joking about it.
Posted by: Megan at December 22, 2005 12:26 PM