“THIS will have to stop,” I scold myself after purchasing yet another unnecessary item of clothing.
How can I afford to do anything of interest in my non-working spare time if I continue to live a life of monstrous excess? Namely, if I continue to purchase items of attire which I just do not need.
I remind myself, as I stare admirably at my latest pair of jeans which look almost identical to the last pair I bought, in fact, I’m not entirely sure that they aren’t the same pair of jeans, that I am behaving like some sort of loaded aristocrat.
When actually, I tell myself, I’m more like those women who my granddad would say were “all fur coats and no knickers”.
Hmmm … no, now that I think of it I believe that saying refers to ladies of the night, of which I am not.
And I do own several pairs of knickers might I add but no fur coat.
I would own a fur coat if I could afford it but I can’t because I’m too busy buying jeans that are the same.
This leads me to thinking about fur coats for a while.
I think I have a problem with fur coats… the problem being that I like them.
I really do, but I’d never wear one.
The only reason I’d never wear one is because I’d be afraid someone from Peta would appear out of the blue and start firing tomatoes at me, because as far as I’m aware, that’s what the people in Peta do.
So yes, I wouldn’t wear a fur coat because it’s not deemed socially acceptable but I do like them…
Really, it’s quite fortunate that I’ll never have a penny to my name, I’m saving myself an awful lot of grief and I’m saving the people in Peta a lot of tomatoes.
Aside from Peta and the tomatoes I suppose I would have a slight moral dilemma about fur coats given that I abhor cruelty to animals.
If I actually thought about the process of getting the fur from the animals to the coat I’d have far more of a problem I’d imagine, but given the shallow world I inhabit I try not to trouble myself with such thoughts.
And really, if I liked the animals the fur coats were made of I’d have even more of a problem but luckily, I don’t.
For example, rabbits – I hate them. They are totally useless.
My views on rabbits were tainted one day when I was young and I happened to be watching Live At 3, as it was then, with Derek Davis and Thelma someone or other. For some reason unbeknownst to myself there were lots of rabbits fornicating in a hutch, live on TV and I formed the opinion that rabbits were pretty shameless creatures and not ones I would be associating with ever again.
They also have red eyes let me remind you – this is something I may or may not have just made that up.
Mink is another one… my granny made me fall in love with her mink coat years before I knew what a mink was. I distinctly recall strolling around the farmyard at a very tender age in her fur coat, her blue high heels and a pink crown which I presume belonged to me.
Then I actually saw a documentary on minks and yes, I hate them too.
Fox are also used. Granted I may have a slight problem here in that I used to enjoy sitting by the window looking out for a flame haired fox who used to frequent our garden. I grew quite fond of him until I saw him strolling around one morning with a dead chicken in his mouth.
Regardless of how much I secretly covet one, I’ll never wear a fur coat much like I’ll probably never wear the jeans.