Fancy Schmancy...

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As I sit here at Charles De Gaulle airport wound by a seemingly endless array of luxury retailers, I finally get the surge to put together the first post. I've now learned that the level of eagerness in building the site vs approving the first post is very different. If you're thinking of leaping in, just go for it; you'll adjust as you go.

That being said, I realized there that there's something oddly therapeutic to me about being surrounded by a variety of designer stores. What's weird here is that it's not shopping or buying anything that triggers this seemingly unexplainable emotion. There's nothing special to me about buying high-end fashion compared to any other items I like. So, I wanted to properly dissect this.

I'm not sure who has or hasn't been to Charles de Gaulle, but I'll tell you about this landing—or at least that's what I'm calling it today. Once you're settled in the center of it, it's designer overload. A long winding hallway is lined with Hermès, Chanel, Dior, Burberry, Rolex, Estee Lauder, Bottega Veneta, Cartier, etc. sandwiched on both sides of your path. Somehow, it alters the mood in the entry way, littered with coffee and confectionary stalls, feel like premium food.

I've seen an exhausting amount of airports and I can guarantee you CDG takes it up quite a few notches. Even just as you step in, several Chanel ads give you a warm welcome, it's honestly a little excessive, but as I said, warm. We're going with warm.

Section of Charles de Gaulle "Landing"

The scene was similar last year. Johnny Depp's Dior 'Sauvage' commercial was on a loop on the monitor erected to face the expanse of exhausted people. This year, Charlize Theron got her loop. Technical difficulties left her with only the bottom left corner of the screen.

The main difference I observed was that there were a lot more people holding shopping bags this year. Honorable mentions are also extended to those who walked into these stores to examine their items. Your examination and attempts at a discrete empty-handed exit were very much entertaining. It's just funny how we've weaved pressure into window shopping at high-end stores.

Last year, a lot of these stores could be compared to the Sahara desert. If I remember correctly, this landing turned into an array of sleeping people—blankets, pillows, and all. I like to take credit for it. I kid you not, I went to sleep on my backpack-travel pillow-and-coat makeshift bed as the only one sleeping and woke up to find I was now the only one awake. I went back to sleep to fit in.

I think we can credit this shift in consumerism to social media. Most of us are aware you should especially own the expensive things in 2018/19. It will also probably get worse for a little bit, so be ready. Instagram is our runway, right?

Back to designer sentiments though, I remember growing up my mom was quite the designer enthusiast in her way—she technically still is. She's unintentionally the reason I knew half of their names and proper spellings before age 9. Even further from my mom's free education, I'd see it sensationalized in all my favorite "grown" movies, commercials, and magazine ads—grown also including cliche "coming of age" movies. I was very prepared for these key stages in my forthcoming life cycle. I decided that these were the ways of the refined and would joyfully tell my friends the proper pronunciations when it was necessary. I'll never forget the pride I took in the Bvlgari moment—that V truly had people in a chokehold. However, in teaching them, I and the people I held dear could be in the know and grown-up together.

I'm sure everyone is aware that there's a level of glorification that these brands receive in worldwide media. It's the one that makes the wiring in your brain spark when you see one of their items. From me, it's more like an aaahh—like warmth. I can't stress enough that this is warm to me. Even weirder, if it happens when you see the name of the brand plastered across an item, wall, or building. I could take it an extra step and point out that it is so much better when there are different brands all in proximity to each other.

Maintaining that "you can't sit with us" branding is far more beneficial than self-love and inclusivity in their case. So it's so much more effective to see them all crammed together in a specific type of magazine that holds that brand, or a section of the mall that just feels more elite because all their stores are sat cross-legged, chins up together. Then that aaahh sets in. Perhaps it's because you still remember what it meant to be a "grown lady", and it still feels fulfilling to be in the know. That media concoction just working its magic.

I'd like to believe I am not alone in experiencing this odd therapy by recognition. It's a pretty common concept. For example, the sight of food warms some—yes, I know you endlessly scroll through pictures of food sometimes. Another interesting one, a friend recently shared with me how she had a weird satisfaction with the sight of make-up brushes; the sight of a single brush is satisfying, but better, a bunch of brushes placed together. She said she enjoyed walking into different people's spaces, and finally, she spots the brushes. I immediately wondered if all of this was this same "aaahh" effect.

I mean, I could see the general similarity between being excited by the sight of a stack of waffles, a bunch of make-up brushes, or in my case, an array of classic high-end brands. Now I'm not sure what the origin story could be for the other two, but I have a hypothesis. From my experimentation, I find that it's not so much the sight of it, but that you don't yet or can't have it that incites the emotion. I'll give examples: I looked at the designer items I owned around me, there's no effect whatsoever. Then I imagined stepping out of my house and it is surrounded by these stores with the name of their brand in glowing lights—as they often are—and immediately, aaahh. You see a picture of waffles from a restaurant, etc. advertised somewhere, social media even, and it happens. You've just finished eating a plate of it and someone then showed it to you? Meh. Now, in the meantime, this remains my working hypothesis, but I'll be sure to ask my friend about this brush thing.

Concluded diagnosis: "aaahh" hormone.

Causes: (in my case) Childhood sentiments? FOMO?? Libra-isms???

Did you figure out any of yours? Do we share this one in common or am I just materialistic?

au revoir. I don't know.

12-22-18