The *bling bling* of breath takingly shot advertisements, Greek god like models ,glossy pages and imposing hoardings have to a large extent been successful in drugging the non consumer part of me .
It ,however, wakes up sometimes and a rant is born .
So Barbie is selling clothes now, another brand added to the gamut of nauseatingly expensive and snooty labels.
When I see my puny three and a half feet tall cousins refusing to wear non branded jeans, it really makes me think back about roughly when it was that this brand obsession came and took over even these unsuspecting kids and worse still their parents.
The largest brand I remember wearing as a child is action shoes ,wanting to know if my experience was only mine I spoke to a couple of other friends who come from similar backgrounds and they too seemed to agree with me about our complete disregard for brands as children .
It infact took me a long time to realize the difference between the idea of expensive and non expensive .my mother tells me that as a four year old I asked her if we were rich enough to afford two eggs . Nowadays kids know, that Levis is a cool jean to have because it costs a lot more money that your regular denim pants. This precocious awareness of class and status and a disgusting sense of superiority that money breeds in the minds of these children is something that I don’t remember being a part of my childhood.
Koyel and I were recently talking about what it means to have a good childhood ,the conversation happened after a visit to BC Roy library ,an old building, walls full of paintings ,exciting books ,wooden chairs and an annual subscription fees of fifty rupees it stands in stark contrast to fashions shows(with their numerous other problems) for kids organized by elite playschools …
Crass display of wealth always manages to put me off and warped schooling and parenting along with all pervasive consumerism has, I feel, everything to do with it
Here is a poem by Gerald Kelly
Ad Nauseum
They don’t shout at you these days
In crowded squares
They don’t hang their wares from aprons
And fight through the crush ton accost you
There is n cackle of hens
No bleating of goats
No clink clink clink
Of money counted.
These days they rent the sides of buildings
And scream at you from posters
The size of skies they make neon signs
To render the moonlight anaemic
And leave their wares
To swim about
The pools of floodlit showrooms
They hold their tongues
Say nothing:
Yet fill your head
Your life
Your city
With the fevered volume of hawking
Modern day money changers
Hustlers
Dealers
Abusers of silence
In god’s green temple:
But who should we look to
In this after messiah age
To make a whip
And turn the tables on them ?
