Writing anonymously, a bailed-out CEO’s wife complains about the ebbing of her shopping life:
“…I haven’t even looked at spring clothes; God forbid someone catches me out in something new. Keeping up with fashion seems somehow decadent in this new era, like getting Botox injections or catered dinners… If I buy a present for someone, I have the package sent to their home. I don’t want to be spotted climbing into a taxi, laden with Bergdorf Goodman shopping bags…”
Gee whiz, I wonder who this piece of whining fecal matter is?
