24-10-2010, 07:29 AM
OK, this probably doesn't come under "Personal Finance", but then again it's very amusing and highlights the growing trend for women these days (yes, even reporters like Fiona!) going for "designer bags" costing thousands of dollars! Incidentally, I think Miu Miu should cost about $4,000 (though it was not mentioned in the article); and who in the right mind would spend so much on a bag? Remember the median salary in Singapore is just about S$2,700.....
Oct 24, 2010
Marital differences over designer bags
By Fiona Chan
In every relationship, there comes that one defining moment when you discover exactly how little you know about your partner.
For me, that turning point arrived last week when my husband and I made two simultaneous earth-shattering discoveries.
I realised to my horror that my husband disapproves of $2,000 designer handbags and my husband realised to his horror that I love $2,000 designer handbags.
Needless to say, this was a major ideological rift. It was as if Mr Potato Head came home one day to find Mrs Potato Head eating french fries.
After we got over the shock, both of us tried hard to convince the other to be more open-minded.
'These handbags are expensive because they're made of high-quality leather and will last a long time,' I said, all reasonable and pragmatic. 'If you think about it, it's actually a very good investment.'
'What kind of high-quality leather costs $2,000?' was my husband's response. 'Was it an endangered cow? And if so, why are you killing it?'
So I tried another tack. 'Anyway this is money that I earned myself, so I should get to spend it on what I want, right?'
No such luck. 'Now we're married, so your money is my money,' he said. 'My money is also your money, but not to buy bags.'
'You don't understand,' I said. 'One designer bag can make your entire outfit look expensive, even if it's from This Fashion.'
'But you're a journalist,' replied my relentless husband. 'No one's going to believe that you're rich anyway.'
It was an impasse. Then he said something really unforgivable.
'Why don't you just buy a fake one?' he suggested, happy to have found a compromise. 'Like, a really good fake one. No one will know the difference.'
I just stared at him until he slunk away.
The next day, I told my friends and colleagues about our fight. Naturally, they were all on my side.
'You're an economist,' said one of my colleagues, applying a very broad definition to my job scope as a business reporter. 'Can't you just do a cost-benefit analysis and convince him?'
That would certainly be easy enough. Cost: $2,000. Benefit: Happiness, which surely is priceless.
But it would require more than that to persuade my husband, who unfortunately is a lawyer. Within hours, he had assembled an array of indestructible arguments to condemn designer handbags to a lifetime sentence of being left on the shelf.
First, he said, it doesn't cost $2,000 to make a designer handbag, so there's no reason anyone should pay $2,000 for it.
Second, there are plenty of perfectly good handbags out there going for $50, so why should I buy one that costs 40 times as much?
At this point I should probably explain that until recently, my husband - bless his simple G2000-wearing heart - innocently believed that all my bags cost about $50 each. That pretty Miu Miu one, maybe $100.
Adorable as this was, I had to set him straight. So I sat him down and let the cat out of the bag about how much my accessories cost.
He was horrified. And so he went for the jugular in his third argument: With so many people starving in the world, could I really bring myself to spend $2,000 on another bag?
I hate it when people say this. It's completely irrelevant, and yet there's no way you can argue without sounding like some spoilt developed-country brat.
But my husband was far from done. Women buy expensive bags, he said, just so they can show off that they have a status symbol.
If Prada one day slashed the prices of all its bags to $1, women would immediately lose interest.
What makes it worse, he said, is that women don't even want a unique and exclusive status symbol.
They want a bag that enough other people are carrying as well - so it can be easily recognised for the thousands of dollars it cost. That's just dumb, he said.
I had to admit that was true. And that there is really no compelling reason to buy such a pricey bag, except an inexplicable conviction that you deserve it and it will make you happy.
At least, until you see another bag you like better and must have as well.
Still, how often can you buy happiness, even if just for a short time? To me, that makes even the most expensive bag worth every cent.
After all, if you do the maths, the 'cost per wear' of a designer bag actually works out to a very reasonable price.
As my editor rightly pointed out, a $2,000 bag that is carried every day for six months only costs about $11 a day - less than a cocktail, a paperback, or even one of my husband's treasured Transformer toys.
Eventually my husband and I did reach some sort of compromise. I wouldn't buy the bag, I told him, if he sent $2,000 in cash to starving people in Africa.
I got the bag.
fiochan@sph.com.sg
Oct 24, 2010
Marital differences over designer bags
By Fiona Chan
In every relationship, there comes that one defining moment when you discover exactly how little you know about your partner.
For me, that turning point arrived last week when my husband and I made two simultaneous earth-shattering discoveries.
I realised to my horror that my husband disapproves of $2,000 designer handbags and my husband realised to his horror that I love $2,000 designer handbags.
Needless to say, this was a major ideological rift. It was as if Mr Potato Head came home one day to find Mrs Potato Head eating french fries.
After we got over the shock, both of us tried hard to convince the other to be more open-minded.
'These handbags are expensive because they're made of high-quality leather and will last a long time,' I said, all reasonable and pragmatic. 'If you think about it, it's actually a very good investment.'
'What kind of high-quality leather costs $2,000?' was my husband's response. 'Was it an endangered cow? And if so, why are you killing it?'
So I tried another tack. 'Anyway this is money that I earned myself, so I should get to spend it on what I want, right?'
No such luck. 'Now we're married, so your money is my money,' he said. 'My money is also your money, but not to buy bags.'
'You don't understand,' I said. 'One designer bag can make your entire outfit look expensive, even if it's from This Fashion.'
'But you're a journalist,' replied my relentless husband. 'No one's going to believe that you're rich anyway.'
It was an impasse. Then he said something really unforgivable.
'Why don't you just buy a fake one?' he suggested, happy to have found a compromise. 'Like, a really good fake one. No one will know the difference.'
I just stared at him until he slunk away.
The next day, I told my friends and colleagues about our fight. Naturally, they were all on my side.
'You're an economist,' said one of my colleagues, applying a very broad definition to my job scope as a business reporter. 'Can't you just do a cost-benefit analysis and convince him?'
That would certainly be easy enough. Cost: $2,000. Benefit: Happiness, which surely is priceless.
But it would require more than that to persuade my husband, who unfortunately is a lawyer. Within hours, he had assembled an array of indestructible arguments to condemn designer handbags to a lifetime sentence of being left on the shelf.
First, he said, it doesn't cost $2,000 to make a designer handbag, so there's no reason anyone should pay $2,000 for it.
Second, there are plenty of perfectly good handbags out there going for $50, so why should I buy one that costs 40 times as much?
At this point I should probably explain that until recently, my husband - bless his simple G2000-wearing heart - innocently believed that all my bags cost about $50 each. That pretty Miu Miu one, maybe $100.
Adorable as this was, I had to set him straight. So I sat him down and let the cat out of the bag about how much my accessories cost.
He was horrified. And so he went for the jugular in his third argument: With so many people starving in the world, could I really bring myself to spend $2,000 on another bag?
I hate it when people say this. It's completely irrelevant, and yet there's no way you can argue without sounding like some spoilt developed-country brat.
But my husband was far from done. Women buy expensive bags, he said, just so they can show off that they have a status symbol.
If Prada one day slashed the prices of all its bags to $1, women would immediately lose interest.
What makes it worse, he said, is that women don't even want a unique and exclusive status symbol.
They want a bag that enough other people are carrying as well - so it can be easily recognised for the thousands of dollars it cost. That's just dumb, he said.
I had to admit that was true. And that there is really no compelling reason to buy such a pricey bag, except an inexplicable conviction that you deserve it and it will make you happy.
At least, until you see another bag you like better and must have as well.
Still, how often can you buy happiness, even if just for a short time? To me, that makes even the most expensive bag worth every cent.
After all, if you do the maths, the 'cost per wear' of a designer bag actually works out to a very reasonable price.
As my editor rightly pointed out, a $2,000 bag that is carried every day for six months only costs about $11 a day - less than a cocktail, a paperback, or even one of my husband's treasured Transformer toys.
Eventually my husband and I did reach some sort of compromise. I wouldn't buy the bag, I told him, if he sent $2,000 in cash to starving people in Africa.
I got the bag.
fiochan@sph.com.sg
