Recently I posted another “Part I” of a story I hoped would evolve into something more substantial. However, I have issues with following through and (cough) commitment (cough cough) so I never followed up with a “Part II”. But bear with me. This (see below) already has a “Part II” in the works. So enjoy, and stay tuned!

–

Audrey desperately wanted to go out with her friends Saturday night, but she had less than ten dollars in her bank account and some pocket change. The night before she spent her entire weekly paycheck of $52.50 on six drinks: two pomegranate martinis, two glasses of champagne, one Guinness, and one Jack and ginger for her equally as under-funded mate, Sloan. Having men buy them drinks was out of the question. Sloan and Audrey dressed for women, they dressed for themselves, not for men. Perched atop six inch second-hand Louboutins and swathed in lacy, ruffled, studded, or embellished haute couture creations, the girls resembled alien man-eating rock stars. They possessed that sort of scary beauty and uniqueness that frightens the male species. Once, two men found the balls to send a pair of shots down the bar to Audrey and Sloan. The two females took the shots without politely waiting for their providers and proceeded to coldly ignore the disappointed fellows until they went away.

 

Audrey used to have money, and loads of it. The fabulous clothes she donned had been purchased a few years ago. Audrey knew how to work her already-existing wardrobe so it seemed as though she never wore the same thing twice. Upon entering college, Audrey spent – within four months – every ounce of her scholarship money and savings in cocaine and clothing. We shall not embarrass the girl further by putting a precise number on the amount wasted. Luckily, she had not been able to indulge in either addiction in the past three years since her funds depleted. Last year she succumbed to taking  a menial position as office girl in the university’s admissions department. She could only work very few hours because of her class schedule, and therefore her paychecks never reached more than $60.00. She refused to give up her decadent lifestyle though, and somehow managed to live quite well on $60.00 a week (plus whatever she could weasel out of her parents).

 

This particular Saturday, however, her options lacked. Yesterday she coaxed her father into transferring money into her account for birth control, groceries, and a public transit pass. She spent the money honestly, but she could think of no other reasons to ask for more. Her parents would not support $12.00 martinis (even though they’re quite delicious, and Audrey was sure that if her father actually tried one, he’d really like it and want to buy them for her!)

 

Audrey decided the time had come to sell her clothes. While looking around her room, she realized it more closely resembled one giant walk-in closet. Hats, scarves, jeans, underwear, fur coats, shoes, dresses, and even one vintage Chinese kimono garnered every inch of space. Audrey had taken to displaying her fur coats on her bed; she created a sort of comforter out of them and slept under them, merely because she had nowhere else to put the fur coats. Suddenly, Audrey felt disgusted and disgraced by her obscene amount of clothes. Grabbing a few trash bags, she began purging.

 

“Do I really need silk harem pants…have I ever worn this vulgar leather corset? I can’t even remember purchasing this lace monstrosity…”

 

But her clothes had grown accustomed to this ordeal; they no longer feared impulsive removal.

 

“Oh but everyone needs harem pants. And I’m saving this corset for Halloween!” Audrey salvaged the items from the trash bag and safely restored them to their rightful place in her room. She giggled nervously and mentally apologized to her clothes for the close betrayal. This happened almost every Saturday morning in the quest for monetary relief. After the initial flourish of cleansing, and after much agonizing and inner turmoil, Audrey would come away with one or two items deemed worthy of selling. Last weekend she sold a pair of white Citizens of Humanity jeans she purchased three years ago exclusively for a white party, and hadn’t worn them since.

 

Today, she promised herself, would be different. Audrey felt determined to find three things to sell or she knew there would be no glamorous fun at bars tonight. Her eye fell on a pair of horrendously gaudy and unflattering Burberry sunglasses. She tried them on and instantly cringed. “Please remind me why I bought these in the first place…I look like a Guido?” she asked herself.  An hour later, she added a too-big Betsey Johnson belt and an extremely bizarre sequined and feathered beret to her selling bag. She quickly dressed and left for the consignment shop before she could talk herself into keeping one of the accessories. 

Related Posts

• No Related Post