Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Princess

It’s wrong to look at someone and mentally sum up their lives. It’s really wrong to judge people without knowing anything about them other than the way they look. I know this because I really dislike it when someone looks down their nose at me. Don’t they understand that you can’t judge a book by its cover? Don’t they see that there is more to me than my skin? For crying out loud, if you have a question, ask it, but don’t stand there and judge me without asking the question!! If it goes on long enough, I’ve been known to harbor violent thoughts and even say things like “If you don’t stop that, I’ll have to remove that finger at the elbow and stick it up your ass.” Don’t judge me people, it makes me crabby.

And now, please put your hands together for…The Hypocrite.

There’s this little 20 something that gets on the train (at a very nice town) on my way into work most mornings. I don’t know her name. I don’t know what she does. I’ve never sat beside her, but I’ve taken an intense dislike to her.
She dresses nice. Well, more accurately put, she dresses expensively. Expensive as in, Expen$ive. The thousand dollar designer hand bag? Check. The latest fashion in women’s suits? Check. Silk shirts? Check. Ridiculously high pumps (If I knew what a Manolo Blahnik(sp?) looked like, I’d swear these were them) and the jewelry! My god, the jewelry. Today’s example of professional, reserved style are 2” long pearl drop earrings, dangling from what appears to be a silver base, both base and pearl drops are studded with little diamonds. And a sweat suit…a very expensive looking sweat suit, but still. THIS is what one wears to work?? I know that she’s going to work because she usually wears what one would consider expen$ive work clothes. But this? Is she going to work or is she going to be spending more of Daddy’s money on the way to work?

To be fair, I must point out that I am not a slave to fashion. For that matter, I’m not much of a slave to clothes in general. It’s a rare non-summer weekend that My Girl doesn’t request that I wear my “good” flannel when we go out instead of the eye-blindly bright flannel that really is much more comfortable. This is one reason why I find the Fashionista 20 Something so unlikeable. She obviously sets great store by fashion as her relative worth to the world.

Invariably, she looks ‘coiffed’. Coiffed as in, it looks like it took more than two hours to take a shower, put on the makeup (with a spatula), pull the hair back into a pony tail (because it’s quicker), and then push the hair on top of the her head forward just so (to look more like Julia Louise Dreyfuss from the early Seinfeld days).

Every time I see her, all I can think of is “Oh, look. It’s Princess!” adding a little squeaky rise to my inner voice on the ‘prin’. Immediately I check to see what she’s wearing to figure out what I hate. I imagine her with all sorts of 20 Something self-absorbedness. I imagine her driving around in the biggest or fastest gas guzzler because either road height or great speed makes her feel safer. I believe that she sees herself as worldly in her outlook while not knowing who the President of the United States is or what’s going on in Iraq because their fashion is just terrible there. In short, I cut her no slack whatsoever.

I cut her no slack because of The Attitude she radiates. It screams “I’m important and you’re beneath notice.” If I thought she took the time to see anyone as an individual instead of “servant”, maybe I’d just think she just worked hard and took care of herself. But she doesn’t, so I don’t. But this is not my dilemma, it’s my hypocrisy in action.

THIS is my dilemma. I don’t know whether I’m more offended by her attitude, my hypocrisy, or by the knowledge that I somehow know what Pearl Drop earrings, Manolo Blahniks, and the latest in women’s fashions are.

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