Making a permanent impression since 1994
December 13, 2005
-- Slice of life --
My breakfast at Tiffany's
By Geraldine Soon
-- I was waiting at the huge Christmas tree in Takashimaya Shopping Centre for
my best friend and couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to step
through the exclusive doors of Tiffany and Co.
I decided against it, because I didn't feel like having someone pull me by the
shirt collar, having the words "GET OUUUUTT!" yelled into my face and
getting thrown out through those exclusive doors.
funny thing about my decision was not because I was concerned about the way I
dressed. I thought it was a pretty sophisticated look: black top, pale pink
pants and my pink heels, accessorized with my titanium-chain necklace and shiny
glitter-studded bangles. And, of course, I was armed with my trusty ATM card.
why didn't I push open the glass doors that had been waxed and polished to
perfection, and step into the shop that was glittering with objects fit for
only the rich and famous?
simply because I'm not rich and famous.
my ATM card certainly doesn't contain enough funds to buy one-thousandth of the
smallest Tiffany jewel there.
that's not all.
could go in and not buy anything, stating the obvious reason, "I can't find
what I'm looking for" and be sure that the lady behind the counter would
tell me, "Thank you for coming!" before gracefully open the door for
me to walk out.
didn't go in because I felt I wasn't worthy enough to step into such a shop.
didn't want to dirty the luxurious-blue fur mat that spelled "Welcome"
with my heels that spelled "I was bought at a 20% discount!"
didn't want to stain those perfectly clear glass doors with my hands that never
received a $100 chocolate and papaya enzyme spa treatment before.
of all, with the sleek and high-class set-up of the shop (or should I say, a
boutique) and its unique, for-the-rich-only ambience, I knew I didn't fit
in at all.
would have felt so out of place that I would have run out of the boutique myself
without the help of the bouncer.
is what is known as an inferiority complex.
and design of the boutique was not solely meant to cater to the tastes of their
powerful and almighty customers. It was also to keep the middle class, the
average folk, people like me, out of the boutique by tweaking that nerve in the
brain which makes us feel inferior.
course, it doesn't help that while the mat says "Welcome," the doors
always remain closed, waiting for the correct pair of hands to push it open.
couldn't help but notice these two young girls who were standing at
the display window outside Tiffany and Co, gazing at the treasure in it. One of
them commented, "When I grow up, I will make sure I earn lots of money so I
can shop inside!"
into her seventh year of life, and already, the idea of materialism is creeping
into her mind.
doesn't make sense that there are hard-core campaigns out there to "Save
the Earth," "Stop Discrimination" and "Help the Poor,"
but the back door is being left open and unchecked.
yearn and desire for material wealth, in this young girl's case, and
discrimination is unconsciously taking place in normal shopping arenas, in my
has become so natural and common, a part of our everyday lives, that we just
don't realize it.
we wonder why those campaigns out there are not being as fully effective as they
ought to be.
course, there is no way Tiffany and Co. would change the aesthetic appeal of its
boutique for my inferiority complex's sake.
I guess it is up to me to stay away from them for the good of myself, society
and the earth, and settle for the glitter-studded bangles that I got at a flea
market in Bangkok.
That is how I live my life to the fullest.
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