Much Ado About Garbage Bags

These are strange economic times we live in. We are meant to be watching our dollars, buying investments rather than throw-aways, going all organic and green, simplifying and downsizing; and yet, there occassionally comes a moment that is really quite small, yet somehow so significant. Ok, that's a slight exaggeration, much like when fashion magazines claim baggy-crotch pants are hot, but sometimes little things stick with you as an indication of the times. Not surprisingly, my little epiphany came under the fluro lights of Coles (FYI, NEVER go there on a Thursday arvo when pensioners and bogans get 'paid'. It is a nightmare congestion of slacks, ugg boots, random children and painfully slow checkout lines).

Wandering down the cleaning aisle, I paused to ponder the best value garbage bags, as one must do in times like these, when I noticed a brand selling silver bags, so they can match your stainless steel kitchen. WTF?! The label had a picture of a lady looking as though all her dreams had come at once, and a quote 'I love my new designer kitchen, and now my garbage bags can perfectly match my stainless steel decor". WHO gives an arse about the colour of garbage bags??? I'm all for accessorising but if the biggest worry you have in your life is complementary waste disposal, then I wash my hands of you (but only if the soap colour matches the bathroom tiles).

Much like Posh Spice's $175k bag, it seems slightly vulgar. And a tad pathetic, much like our neighbour down the road who never fails to run out and get her garbage bins in the minute the trucks have rolled past. It's possibly sad that I know that she does, but they usually come by when I'm leaving the house. Actually I bet she adores colour-matched bin bags. I quite delight in leaving our bins out all day (oh the horror!) figuring it's a) a man's job to get them in, and put them out, hooray for sexism; and b) not a job worth mucking up my manicure for. Not that I have one, but just in case I did. The servants can do it, dahling!

Similarly, in this month's Madison there's a lovely lifestyle spread on a gorgeous family home in Sydney, but after earlier features on crime and disaster, it seems a bit odd to note on one picture "Mrs. X reclines on her leather pouf, her dress complementing the antique vase on the sideboard" (not quite those words, but it was "dress matches furniture"). I know I dare not enter my living room unless my shoes match the carpet, and heaven forbid entering the kitchen in anything but perfectly toned silver! Though I could always use those garbage bags and make a stainless steel-esque frock in case of such an unmitigated fashion disaster.....