£££

It is pretty much an established fact that any sign of £, $ , € or any other currency symbol is bound to touch a nerve amongst people as a fiscally concerned species. However, as far as the human race goes I am relatively unconcerned with issues related to money. The amount of money I will earn is probably the lowest down factor on my list of concerns when thinking about my dream job; I want to be a writer or a midwife. My ideal husband would wear geeky glasses, have blond hair and blue eyes and as for his yearly income... I hadn't really given it that much thought. But a struggling poet or compassionate school-teacher do both sound very sexy.

At the same time, I know my desired lifestyle wouldn't be particularly suited to a low income; put simply, I am not very thrifty at all. This probably stems from my mother, who whilst never rich, always believes that life is stressful enough without worrying about a couple of pennies here or a penny there, if you can afford it. We do not go on luxurious holidays but we certainly have plenty of luxurious cake at over-priced cafes. My approach to money is ridiculed my a few of my friends, very much inverse snobs. How dare you spend over £15 on a pair of shoes?!? Think of the credit crunch! Think of the poor working-class! The starving babies in Africa! They judge, walking the polished pavements of middle-class London.

Nevertheless, as I have said, I am quite immune to issues of money, and I admit that it is a terribly naive idea, but I often think that it would be so lovely if all currency was thrown out the window. I think the power money holds over us is atrocious (But what about quality of products? Incentive to create? Purpose for work? Yes I know, I know, it's just an idea).

As a result of my opinions, I do not find it difficult to part with the money I have earnt (yes, earnt) and have probably spent more than the average teenager on single items of clothing. I do not bulk buy from Primark, ever, but I have spent over 100 squid on a jacket and over 50 smackers on a skirt. Still, when I fell in love with a gorgeous leopard print trench coat from Urban Outfitters, I could not part with the wonga (liking the synonyms here?). I saw it once and ran out of the shop for fear of succumbing temptation. The second time, I tried it on, my friend took a photo - which I cannot find - then returned it lovingly to its sisters. Now, I look on the Urban Outfitters website, there is a sale, and the trench is gone. They do have it, in other less fabulous colours:


Sadly, these bland colourways do nothing but remind me of the fabulousness of the leopard-print trench (which I do think I have mentioned on here in the past... once or twice) so I am saved from dropping a not remotely affordable £99.99. But I am left thinking... if the leopard-print trench was still available, would I have been able to part with that cash? In the grand scheme of things, yes it could be seen as quite a bargain, but still, not for someone who doesn't yet pay taxes or get Chanel handbags from Daddy.

Writing this has now left me thoroughly convinced that we should just abandon money. What temptation, corruption, joy, desolation and power it can create! Well, I think I had better adjust my hopes and aim to marry an economist (is that a job?) or someone equally understanding of money, because right now I really can't see any beauty or point in it at all.