“Look! Channel!” said a young Mainland Chinese fellow excitedly, pointing at the boutique, ready to rush in.
His friend frowned, told him in an extremely strict tone to never mispronounce Chanel ever again. “It’s SHAAY-NEL. Repeat after me. SHAAY-NEL.”
I chuckled, half amused half amazed at how young adults run after luxurious names, hungry to display an image of wealth and sophistication. I wished I would never learn to place my worth on materials.
Shortly after the episode, I did my grocery shopping and bought the following:
- feta cheese,
- duck liver pate,
- organic sunflower kernels,
- balsamic vinegar,
- extra virgin olive oil,
- muesli, and
- hearth bread with camembert.
- (and THIIIISSSS close to getting some smoked salmon, turkey ham, and some strawberries daifuku, and sakura tea)
When I got home, I quickly put my new purchase away, rearranging my fridge and the mini condiment shelf. I was pleased and proud of my sea salt grinder, ground black pepper, avocados, granny smiths, cherries, and newfound favourite, bread with camembert.
It was then I realised how I had also measured my own worth against materials… No, not any A-list fashion houses, but choice of food.
How much am I worth? As fancy as caviar?
... Or as extravagant as white truffles?
You see, I like being associated with splendid food and wine. I splurge on them. I like telling people about my lavish grocery shopping as well as my trials in the kitchen. I like patronising swank restaurants, and show them off on Facebook. So much so that I am often told I had exquisite tastes.
Never had I thought of it as a problem… until now.
It was the expensive food that gave me a sense of self-worth, almost like a comforting assurance that I had more refined tastes than anybody else. It perhaps stemmed from feeling of inferiority and a silly belief that it could only be made right by eating like the rich.
Well, good thing is, it’s still not too late to reset my priorities in life. It’s time to make more friends, read more, and put the extra money into better use (instead of helping restaurateurs pay taxes).
Guess, it’s GOOD BYE to my obsession with maintaining a stellar reputation as an epicurean, and HELLO to a more fulfilled life, one outside the food realm :)
Leather Pumps 