Money Well-Spent?
Today I braved the threatening skies and went to the Dallas Art Fest at Addison Circle. Some of the art was not that good; some, simply not my style; and some, exceedingly outside of my price range. As an example, I saw a kick-ass huge painting that I loved for $2900. As I was admiring the painting I knew I could not afford, a guy in a green t-shirt admired the same one. The vendor next door caught his eye and called him over by finger-wiggling. Green T-shirt moved toward him, keeping his eye on the $2900 canvas. The vendor spoke to him in not-super-hushed-tones.
"I wouldn't buy her work."
"No?"
"No. It's ridiculously overpriced. Look at it."
Green T-shirt looked back over.
"But it's really good."
"She thinks she's better than she is."
I took a glance at the work of this meddling vendor: iron sculptures that weren't even in the same genre as this woman's art. Why work so hard to lure away a potential buyer?
My family was ready to move on. I didn't hear the rest of the exchange, but I passed Green T-shirt later in the soggy day and his hands were empty. I felt bad for the woman from Naples, Florida who overvalued her work. Still, better to be her -- having confidence in what she has to offer -- than the meddler -- so petty he feels the need to steal customers who aren't interested in what he has to sell.
Sometime later, we happened upon a booth of art that we all liked. My sister and her husband pondered a big red pear for over their fireplace; I checked out a big green one for my staircase. My niece tried to steal touches of the paintings any time she thought no one was looking to tell her, once again, not to touch. She's at that age of testing. We made some more circles in the mud, all three kids in tow, but ended up back at the pears. After some consulting and measuring, JoEllen & Lance bought the red pear. I continued to contemplate the green one. It would look perfect in that space. I happen to really like green pears. It was an excellent combination of traditional subject matter with a contemporary flair. I liked that, too. The artist was asking $600, which really isn't that bad for a framed original.
But, I left it behind. $600, while no $2900, just seemed like more of a commitment than I was ready to make on a Sunday afternoon at the art festival; more of an investment than I'm ready to make in art; too much money for a single purchase that doesn't have 800 channels.
I got back home and gathered my new $160 jeans to take back to Nordstrom to get tailored. While at Nordstrom, I found a second pair and bought those as well. I moved on to Banana Republic and dropped about $300. Hollister & Express for another $100. Nine West for some shoes and another $50. All-in-all, a veritable spree that cost well over the $600 of the painting. This doesn't count the tank tops I bought online at Michael Stars last night, lured by Memorial Day weekend free shipping. And what do I have to show for it? Clothes that I am almost guaranteed to be bored with in less than half a year, probably less.
My priorities are all out of whack.
"I wouldn't buy her work."
"No?"
"No. It's ridiculously overpriced. Look at it."
Green T-shirt looked back over.
"But it's really good."
"She thinks she's better than she is."
I took a glance at the work of this meddling vendor: iron sculptures that weren't even in the same genre as this woman's art. Why work so hard to lure away a potential buyer?
My family was ready to move on. I didn't hear the rest of the exchange, but I passed Green T-shirt later in the soggy day and his hands were empty. I felt bad for the woman from Naples, Florida who overvalued her work. Still, better to be her -- having confidence in what she has to offer -- than the meddler -- so petty he feels the need to steal customers who aren't interested in what he has to sell.
Sometime later, we happened upon a booth of art that we all liked. My sister and her husband pondered a big red pear for over their fireplace; I checked out a big green one for my staircase. My niece tried to steal touches of the paintings any time she thought no one was looking to tell her, once again, not to touch. She's at that age of testing. We made some more circles in the mud, all three kids in tow, but ended up back at the pears. After some consulting and measuring, JoEllen & Lance bought the red pear. I continued to contemplate the green one. It would look perfect in that space. I happen to really like green pears. It was an excellent combination of traditional subject matter with a contemporary flair. I liked that, too. The artist was asking $600, which really isn't that bad for a framed original.
But, I left it behind. $600, while no $2900, just seemed like more of a commitment than I was ready to make on a Sunday afternoon at the art festival; more of an investment than I'm ready to make in art; too much money for a single purchase that doesn't have 800 channels.
I got back home and gathered my new $160 jeans to take back to Nordstrom to get tailored. While at Nordstrom, I found a second pair and bought those as well. I moved on to Banana Republic and dropped about $300. Hollister & Express for another $100. Nine West for some shoes and another $50. All-in-all, a veritable spree that cost well over the $600 of the painting. This doesn't count the tank tops I bought online at Michael Stars last night, lured by Memorial Day weekend free shipping. And what do I have to show for it? Clothes that I am almost guaranteed to be bored with in less than half a year, probably less.
My priorities are all out of whack.
posted by pamela at 7:20 PM
3 Comments:
Nevertheless, I'm so jealous. I haven't bought any clothes since January with the exception of a few V.S. pjs to be delivered to mom & dad's, which means I won't get to wear them until July. So, keep buying :) I'm living vicariously through you. Cairo's clothes styles are more european funky, i.e. they would only look good on ghetto-fabulous celebrities. I want t-shirts. I want jeans that don't have glitter. I wants flip flops, not 4-inch heels.
Well, at least you're saving money? You'll be home before you know it and can visit the glory that is Town Center Mall in Boca. And you know your mom is going to take you shopping, for sure. :) All you have left in between is a trip to Russia. Just that little thing. :)
Oh... you're going to make me sad.
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