I grew up with these things. My first husband made fun of me for my "stupid glasses, won't even hold a whole beer," and he wasn't the only one. All my life I've taken crap for preferring to drink out of the cheap glass that fit my hand, and that reminded me of the places in my childhood that I loved. These stupid things were in my grandmother's house, her ambassador friends' houses, our artist friends' houses, anybody who'd travelled the world, I drank out of them all over France. They make me happy. So I like a cheap European cafeteria glass. Seems a harmless thing, right?
I'm moving into a brand new house with an artist husband who appreciates good industrial design as much as I do, and one who won't make fun of me for my "stupid glasses." Hell, The Man didn't own a fucking pan before I came to visit -- he'd be happy if I brought a box of Taco Bell cups. What a perfect opportunity to ditch the glassware I hate and fill in with more Picardie. I'm drinking out of one right now. They've made it through every move, they're almost impossible to break. I love them. Last time I bought them, there was no internet, it was that long ago, so this time, it ought to be easy, right?
Somewhere along the line, unbeknownst to me, they became trendy and every trendy idiot has them. WORSE, the company went kaput last month and now they're harder than hell to get. AAAAAAAAAAAGH. And I can't get them. They're going on eBay for a fricking fortune. Why, God, why?
Look. The mass audience found Harry Potter. I could accept that. I read children's literature because, to paraphrase stitchwhich , classic literature must have a tragic ending. Happy endings get classified as "children's literature." Why? We don't know, but there you have it. I've had enough goddamn tragedy in my life, so I read "children's literature." Same literature, better endings, just a stupid classification. Yes, I really was reading Harry Potter before most people were, and I wasn't pleased when that became trendy, but I learned to live with it. At least it meant a better market, which means more writers, and they print more books, which in the end, means more for me and I win. I can live with that.
My knight and I loved these cool obscure sheep boots we'd wear to Estrella that kept our feet toasty and comfy, and didn't clash with garb. Then Oprah had to go and make Uggs one of her favorite damn things. Then everybody wore Uggs with their garb, and it was harder for two peers who are supposed to be examples to get away with sneaking shoes like that into our outfits. Damn you, Oprah. But I could live with that, too.
The list goes on. Teak, pocketwatches, pearls, Steichen photography, Thai temple rubbings, Coach, sterling holloware, Delta blues, etc. until I want to take out the rifle that eBay can't jack the price up on and shoot all the Philistines who are ruining it for the rest of us. Stop making the things I love into some commodities market!
The glass thing, now that's just not fair. I really, really wanted them. Not the new revised "stacking" version, yuck. But the classic Picardie. Le sigh.