Friday, January 30, 2009

Where There's Gold, There's a Golddigger

Like many other, including This is Mayjah & @kinsington, I found myself getting a little riled up over yesterday's New York Times article about Dating a Banker Anonymous, a group of Manhattan socialites-turned-regular-folk who get together to sip cocktails, look pretty & whine about the many ways the economic downturn depression has ruined their lush lifestyles.



The "DABA Girls," as they call themselves on their blog, have been both hailed & hated... & I bet you can tell which side of the fence I've fallen on. In at least one way, though, I sort of feel bad for them -- these ladies are "suffering" through an economically-induced lifestyle change that they're totally unprepared for & unaccustomed to, as the rest of are, which is difficult no matter the scale. But the difference between them & us? The biggest difference isn't that they're still practically rolling in money in comparison to the rest of the country; the difference is that they're going through it alone. Clearly these women (who are proud to meet "free from the scrutiny of feminists") pride themselves on the incredible accomplishment of dating/marrying up, affectionately known to the rest of the world as golddigging -- & clearly the economy has caused it to backfire on them. I feel bad for them for being unable to see that "for richer of for poorer" puts just as much emphasis on the latter as it does on the former & that true love knows no economic hardships, even when it means sacrificing $200 dinners. (Yeah, I'm still a little idealistic, so sue me.)

In my frustration, I took it upon myself to visit the DABA Girls' site today, where I left the following comment, which doesn't even address the feminist or golddigging aspect of my annoyance. And while I assure you that I don't typically troll the Web for blogs to flame, this time I just couldn't help it. And I think I made my point in a fairly classy, eloquent way, if I may say so myself (OK, maybe excepting the first & last lines).

I hope no one's paying you ladies for your book -- none of you deserve a dime for your money-grubbing, woe-is-me ways. "I didn't sign up for this"? Neither did the rest of the country, sweetheart, & most of us have been hit a heckuva lot harder than not being able to afford Christian Laboutins or tropical vacations anymore. We're the people who work not just 9-to-5s but 8-to-11s to make ends meet for ourselves & our husbands & our kids. Educated, hard-working people who did more with our lives than just marry up & look pretty.

So while you're drinking cocktails together, do you know what the rest of us are doing? We're skipping meals - whole days of meals - to pay our heating bills. We're moving back in with our parents, or we're moving into our cars. We're selling everything we've ever owned or loved or cherished on eBay & Etsy & Craigslist just to buy a month's worth of groceries for our kids. We're walking miles to work in snow & rain because we can't cough up the cash to put gas in our cars.

And we're not getting New York Times coverage for it. We're not wearing heels or sipping mojitos or getting massages while we do it. We are suffering - REAL suffering - in silence & in seriousness. Enjoy that next martini, ladies, & maybe, just maybe for a second, think about what one single martini could pay for for some of the rest of us out here. And then think about shutting your whiny, prissy, pampered mouths.
How do YOU feel about this story & these women? Do you feel bad for them? Or am I the jerky one for leaving such a comment?

Call me crazy, but this is the one time I'd much prefer single & broke to taken & wealthy.
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