It goes right over my head, but my husband buys the Financial Times on a Sunday. We also get The Week which I love, when I can find it. I digress, but the point is that both of them have glossies: How To Spend It and The Quarterly. These are extraordinary odes to appalling wealth and the new way for boys, men, fully grown adults, to flaunt their wealth is a watch. A shiny, bright, heavy, gaudy watch costing incredible amounts of money all of which must go to pay for the advertising space in these periodicals.
I am not out of my pram, yet, but could be heading that way. I suppose I will have to see how this text unfurls.
It used to be the Handbag that took all the space, literally and figuratively, in the pages of these magazines and the wardrobes of fashionistas everywhere, and there was a push to get Statement jackets to be the next thing but it didn’t work. So attention has been diverted to watches. I had a boy friend many years ago whose father had given him a very lovely Rolex for his birthday. He was walking down Pont Street, (sadly Not heading for the 6pm recovery slot on a Monday), when a young man stopped him and asked for the time. The owner of the watch made the timeless gesture that would pull his cuff back to give him this prices information and the Timeless One asked: “Is that a Rolex?”
“Yes”, replied the soon to be ex at the time, and got a punch on the nose and his watch stolen.
I think I find the switch from feminine decoration to the male preening rather interesting, especially as those that I would assume could spend that kind of money are those that have contributed to our current learning curves. Questions have been asked as to when the FT will stop printing How to Spend It. I am not privy to the answer. But I remember living in Italy in 1982 when the Red Brigade took against those with any money and all ostentation would lead to unpleasant experiences. Everyone took to the tiniest cars they could find and all money was hidden from view. I suppose I wonder what is going to happen here?
I ran yesterday morning in the snow. It was a novel experience. It was cold and early as I set out and there was a real chill in the air. As I reached the park the snow started and it was quite wonderful, the soundscape; crows cawing in the empty trees, the cold grey sky and the sound of the snow landing on the dry leaves making a constant fizzing sound. It was very lovely. There is something that emerges from withme in at certain times when there is an image that touches my heart. A snow filled landscape is one of those times. As I ran I tried to figure out what I was feeling and I think it was an awareness of the total acceptance that comes with the vision of snow. The landscape and everything in it, particularly when it is remotely pastoral, all seems to stop and wait in stillness. Driving past pastoral scenes in India brings the same feeling for me and I know it is a longing or an old karmic thing from long ago, but I felt it yesterday as I ran and it brings a sense of peace and continuity which is deeply relaxing on a subconscious level. So I ignored the stinging of the snow in my eyes and ran as fast as I could in the freezing stillness. Delightfully cathartic.