The
price of a pair of Gucci shoes could probably feed a small country
in Africa, but for status seekers that doesn`t matter. When
you buy a brand name item, you`re not just getting the item.
You`re getting the image of privilege that comes along with
it and nowhere is appearance more important than in Korea.
I was
having a trivial expat wife crisis. I got invited to the Gucci
fashion show, but had nothing to wear.
`You have
to go to the Gucci fashion show.` A friend insistently said.
`I mean Tom Ford is my absolute favorite designer! I can`t
believe you`re even hesitating for a second about going! I
will personally strangle you if you don`t go. I don`t have
a ticket, so I have to live vicariously through you.`
She then
proceeded to offer to lend me one of her Gucci dresses. `Oh,
but the dress is from two seasons ago.` She lamented. She
decided that only something from the latest collection would
do. So off we went to the Gucci shop in Apkujong.
Like
most women, I love looking stylish but I generally recoil
at spending gluttonous amounts of money on fashion. In the
past, I`ve been staunchly opposed to buying brand name items
when there are perfectly stylish clothes for sale in Dongdaemun.
Nothing in the Gucci shop struck me as extraordinary except
for the price tags. Then we spotted the shoes.
They were
black strappy stilettos with a pointy toe, silver detailing,
and a dangerously high heel. They were the kind of shoes that
my husband would ask me to wear in bed if he felt like bowing
to Mistress Liza. They could also double as some kind of weapon
in case someone was trying to attack. I wouldn`t say it was
love at first sight, but when I put the shoes on I felt hundreds
of dollars worth of sexy. Then came the approving ooohhs and
ahhhs from my girlfriend and the sales lady. Under all this
pressure to look fabulous, I succumbed to impulse and nervously
pulled out my credit card.
I left
the store feeling exhilarated yet guilty at the same time.
I mean there are people struggling to pay their rent! What
right do I have spending that amount of money on something
as frivolous as a pair of shoes? Oh well, I rationalized.
If men can spend thousands of dollars on useless electronic
gadgets, then surely I`m allowed to buy something stupid once
in a while. It`s all relative.
The fashion
show did not disappoint. The fabrics were luxurious, the silhouettes
were sumptuous and the drinks were free. 95 percent of the
audience comprised of women. Beautiful people wearing beautiful
clothes abounded.
The highlight of the evening though was not the clothes, but
the lack thereof. Hunky men with rippling muscles tended the
bar. They wore nothing on top except a slathering of Gucci
glitter. Usually girls are the ones being ogled and objectified.
In this case the roles were happily reversed. Needless to
say, the girls had a lot of fun posing for photos with the
gorgeous bartenders. A couple of the male models got jealous
that the bartenders were getting all the attention, so off
came their shirts as well. I couldn`t help but think that
a gay man must have organized this flesh fest.
Only after
many hours of teetering on my spike heels did my feet start
to hurt and I am proud to report that I made it through the
night without falling down. Well, okay I fell once, but it
wasn`t because of the shoes.
