by Jessie Su
Takashimaya, Core Pacific City, IDÉE, Sogo…I could see the jaw-dropping of my high school girlfriends out of the corner of my eye as I asked them to help sort out my receipts which I have scattered all over my house. “Um…these aren’t all from last week, are they?” Angela ventured awkwardly. “Of course not,” I answered. “How could I do all my shopping in a week with the anniversary sales set so apart?” “Whatever did you buy, anyway?” Jenny asked. I pointed to a pile of bags with department store logos on them in the far corner of my room. It only took seconds for the three girls to pounce on and rip open those bags, and even quicker for their eyes to bulge out of their faces. “Hang on…did you buy anything other than clothes?” Echo looked at me incredulously. I shrugged my shoulders. “What else is there to buy? Oh, I think I did manage to get some new makeup, if you’re interested.” “I can’t believe this!” Jenny waved a receipt (was it Sogo?) at me. “You spent NT$2384 for two pieces of branded apparel, when you could have gotten at least five more pieces of clothing at Shihlin Night Market?” “Jen, get a grip,” I laughed. “It’s not the first day you knew me to be a brand-idolizer.” My friends all rolled their eyes in disgust, but I didn’t care. Yep, that’s me, all right—a 21-year-old Taiwanese Carrie Bradshaw, or in Japanese “Nadesiko”(大和拜金女), the ultimate material girl of Taipei. My family’s pretty well off, but its economic status doesn’t really allow me this kind of luxury, therefore I spend only the money I make—the pay from two tutoring jobs and working part-time as a translator. My mother is forever telling her girlfriends that the only way I’m ever going to be “happily settled” is if I marry a guy who is rich enough to let me buy anything I want and would still have money left for us to eat and live well. My sixteen-year-old brother sniggers whenever I open my closet door and stand there for twenty minutes pondering on my attire for that day. “Sis—you’ve got clothes that actually fall out every time you open the closet, and you still think you have nothing to wear?” he questions, and I pretend not to have heard him. What would he know?—he’s still wearing uniforms! Yet I am not the worst case you can find; just take a night stroll either near the Chunghsiao East Rd. and Tunghwa South Rd. intersection or the Taipei City Government Center, and you’ll see that there’s plenty more where I came from. One of my girlfriends from middle school is a typical Cher Horowitz (in case you’ve forgotten, that’s the name of the protagonist in the all-time Material Girl Classic—“Clueless”)—she carries a Louis Vuitton pocketbook, wears Fendi earrings, dresses in Morgan style, and wears Nine West shoes, and she’s my age. I, at least, wear what’s more my level—Levi’s jeans, Polo shirts, and Esprit jackets. So what’s with the brand-idolizing? The people around me have different perspectives on this, but we all agree on one thing: it’s not the brand, but the quality that counts. Would you want to buy a don’t–know-where-the-heck-this-brand-is-from digital camera for $6900 only to find that the picture quality sucks and doesn’t have a warranty period, or would you spend double the price for a Nikon which takes high quality pictures, comes with all the accessories, and you’ll always know where to have it fixed? Same idea. Many people have questioned me on the subject of spending money for necessity or vanity. Well, let me show you an example: when I was in high school, my mother took me to Sogo to look for my first-ever toner. My mother was dressed in her aerobics outfit while I was in my school uniform, and the lady at the Shiseido counter didn’t even bother to ask us if we needed any help. Now, several years later, I approach the same Shiseido counter in my Tommy Hilfiger top with a plaid skirt and boots, and the ladies come scurrying up to me asking me if I wanted to try on their newest product. In this era where “consuming is a virtue,” the idiom “Don’t judge a book by its cover” is out of style. For those fresh out of college, men and women included, consuming serves as a therapy to conceal their anxiety of work pressure. The “in” phrase of today is: “You got the look.” Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to Shinkong Mitsukoshi before it closes up. Oh—and by the way, my name’s Samantha. a
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The Taida Student Journal has been active since 1995 with an ever-changing roster of student journalists at NTU. Click the above link to read about the authors Archives
May 2024
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