Monday, March 17, 2008

The Effluence of Affluence

I'm convinced perfect girls are getting it out of bottles and I think I should buy some more.

I like magazines fat and models skinny. You're not supposed to be able to see the lines below my eyes or even November from here. I bought red slingbacks, left a record somewhere, haven't cut my hair yet but keep listening to the Pavement song. "I don't care, I care, I really don't care - did you see the drummer's hair? Advertising looks and chops a must."

Naked quote. Goddamn sixty-nine in seventy-five makes me crazy. I like naked products and naked people, preferably in glossy pictures and holding enormous seven-thousand-dollar snakeskin handbags.

Sell your vicious snow and screaming toys; I want hundreds of dollars in cotton dresses and white boots. Exhaustive econ textbook makes capatalism classy, but the floral industry is in for the euphismic hard sell and tacky trade magazines. "Permanant botanicals" are made out of petroleum, which is surprisingly impermanant and also gathers dust. How much of an unblushing markup will it be for the "sympathy solution", real actual dying flowers on the coffin?

Here's what I've learned: they're close to indestructible. Pinch, cut, pierce, wire, drop, tape, squeeze, fluff, bend, ruffle, cut and recut. It's not design - that's a euphanism too. It's closer to rote, rotate, poke, pick, add and multiply. It's made out of fake ribbon, wax tape, too-shiny wire, and self-importance. It's sickeningly gaudy and instantly dated.

Flowers are free when they grow outside, free to cut and free in old bottles full of dirty water. I'm going to live to see them, free them, mistreat them, and bring them home to you.


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