Let Them Eat Cake.

Marie1

Marie2

Marie3

Ah the glorious decadence of the woman!

The release of this  deliciously ostentatious  ode  to a woman  whose ludicrously fabulous taste in all things  dramatically  over the top knew no bounds, presents us,  dear fellow silly Housekeepers with a moral dilemma...

While I am the first to admit that even the pre-release website has got me kind of dithering with excitement ( if only for the sheer spectacle of it!)- what we are actually dealing with here goes way beyond the opulent rustle of silk as Kirsten Dunst in her finest moment, goes swooshing by in dresses to die for.

If we pretend that grandiosity on this scale no longer exists in our society we are kidding ourselves. Ostentation is relative not to what we need but to what  we can afford. Regardless of whether one more pair of shoes will change our life, or indeed whether we convince ourselves that somehow we "deserve" to spend more money than we need to on whatever- we are only fooling ourselves into believing that what we buy says more about who we are than who in reality, we choose to be.

Some things make me cross. Eight hundred pound bags. Couture at "money can't buy style" prices. Big businesses spending ridiculous amounts of money schmoozing potential clients and wooing the creme de la creme. Mariah Carey. The latest extortionate technology worthless within a year. The way cars lose their value the minute you leave the showroom. Elton John and his goddamn flowers. (Oh Elton, I do so understand- but I can't forgive you regardless!!) Pointless gadgets. (You know who you are!) Careless governments. P Diddy. Or Puff Daddy or whoever.  Bling and the kind of  music that celebrates it.  Creme De La Mer (Somebody buy me some!!). Dress size 00. (Skinny is the new clever.) The ever growing price of Marks and Spencers ready meals.   Dior bottles for babies. Paul McCartney. Tatler magazine . (Though I love it!) Paris silly Hilton. Things I want and can't afford. Unnaturally small dogs carried in handbags. The pharmaceutical industry (Don't get me started on it!). Victoria Beckhams ostentasious desperation. Shoes I'd sell my soul for. Designer labels for the sake of it. Getting carried away in Primark buying things I don't need because they are cheap and Elle has said Primark is beyond cool and I ache to be cool. (Ostentation disguised as cheap tat!!). Plum Sykes daft books. The price of fish.  Quilted toilet paper.  Spoilt children and worse their spoilt  parents.  Gigantic 4x4's (My pet hate!) . Electric gates on little houses.  Girls in shell suits pushing divine white leather prams.  (Or is that just a  Liverpool phenomemon?). Drug addictions.  Fleeting fashion.  Those gigantic silver spaceship style fridges.   Finley's throwaway attitude to everything he touches. Overpriced organic food. And on and on and on...

Yes, I am a stroppy Madam and it is all Marie Antoinettes flamboyant fault. Even the devil, it is rumoured, wears Prada while the rest of us slum it in Matalans best.

That said I can't say I'm not about to fall in love with the aesthetics of the French Revolution. That I am not seduced by swishy layers of velvet and silk. Ornament for the sake of it and gilded everything. That I don't want to start a collections of scrumptiously decorated fans, lay tables full of food to make us swoon and fling feathers and pale pink pearls over my too high to thread-count cotton sheets...

I want it all, because whether we like it or not: whether we despise ourselves for not giving to those who would benefit from both our emotional and financial charity, for choosing to scarifice the planet for our own dubious pleasure, and indeed whether we know that there is relative greed displayed in every corner of our home, we will justify it till the cows come home, because we, like dear little Marie, know no other way beyond the path of consumerism. Vintage or otherwise...

Breathe a sigh of relief- I'm finished.  Thank goodness that particular little tantrum is over and done with. Even I don't know where stroppiness on that scale came from...

Some days you just have to bear with me.