Gucci and me?
Yes, I know. To look at me, you’d never dream I’d have a fancy Gucci original. In fact, I’m well aware that I don’t really look like the type who would even know who the designer is, Gucci, (does he have a first name?). So what does world-famous French fashion pioneer Gucci have to do with me in all the news? Read on and learn about the ridiculous side of life and my rather innocent, and embarrassing, part in it.
It was providence that put me in the path of the elite, the fashionable crowd in that posh part of London, England, where I had come for a cousin’s wedding a good twenty-five years ago. As the rain fell incessantly from cloudy gray skies over what seemed to be a dull and bleak world, my wife and I, small-town Americans, marveled at the old-society charm of English Europe. Tourist attractions we had never dreamed of visiting were suddenly within our immediate panoramic view. The transparency of our simple travel experience must have stood out for all to see as we gasped out loud in sheer amazement and wonder at the wrong Everyone seemed to be driving their cars, trucks and motorcycles, in the grandeur of the great Big Ben clock, in the imposing Buckingham Palace and in those funny looking artificially stiff royal guards with the tall furry hats! We visited some of the most famous museums, gawked at some of the most unusually colorful punk-clad locals, and literally had the time of our lives as we revealed the wonderful temporary role of carefree drinking and dining, plus phone across the ocean. to see how spoiled our kids were getting at their grandparents’ house that week in June.
The entire experience was beyond any vision we could have conjured for ourselves, but it was rejuvenating. As we said goodbye and sincerely thanked our generous hosts, I asked if there might be something we could take back to our relatives in America for them. After a brief moment of deliberation, it seemed that there was.
“Would you mind very much,” my host began in his quaint, endearing English accent, “if we asked you to bring a wallet to my sister in Deal, NJ? It’s a Gucci original, not too new, but just the same.” I know she would appreciate it. And why should she throw it away?
Would I mind? What question! In all honesty, I was happy to return the favor of unique hospitality in a small way!
We pack the ‘Gucci thing’ inside our belongings and head to the airport. With England getting smaller and smaller, and eventually disappearing altogether as the plane gained momentum upward and forward, we mentally prepared ourselves for the long flight home and our reversal of roles.
The meeting we were a part of in Newark was a fitting end to our beautiful vacation. Although we had indeed left London, England, home of the world’s culture, art, fashion, and gale rains, the shower of unmistakable love that we received at our welcome home reception made us all the happier to be with you. back with our beloved family. lawn and immediate family.
We switched into our normal gears: me as father and daily breadwinner, and my wife as the family figure of ‘mommy’, and life seemed to go on just as we had left it with only photographs to keep the memories alive.
Then one bright Sunday morning, my wife reminded me of the Gucci wallet.
“Max,” she said worriedly, “I just remembered about the wallet. Have you seen it anywhere?”
“The Gucci wallet?” I asked in a low tone. “Don’t tell me you don’t know where it is! Didn’t you put it in the big blue suitcase?”
“I thought you had it in your carry-on,” my wife quickly replied. “How amazing if it gets lost!” She continued. “What a way to show our gratitude for everything they did for us!”
Anxiously, we went through every piece of luggage and belongings that we had brought on the trip. Feverishly and determinedly, we sifted through clothing and paraphernalia, spending a good deal of time searching. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Gucci bag was nowhere to be found! Sadly we came to the conclusion that either we had lost it on the way to the airport or it had been stolen. We feel terrible. Too bad we hadn’t bought travel insurance! After all that our English hosts had done for us, how could we recognize what had happened?
I sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa as I thought. Finally, the obvious answer came to mind.
“And what’s so terrible about bringing our host’s sister a new Gucci bag instead of the old, worn one?” I asked. The solution I had thought of was brilliant in its simplicity!
My wife looked at me in amazement. “Where does one go to buy a Gucci bag?” she asked. “I mean, aren’t Gucci originals exclusive items? Maybe you have to buy them from special one-off stores. And how much do you think they cost anyway?”
Although both my wife and I grew up in simple, no-nonsense homes where designer clothing and merchandise were things that, for all intents and purposes, didn’t exist, we understood that the price tags for these types of items were on the higher end. of the general merchandise payment spectrum.
“I’m sure one of the department stores in the mall near us sells Gucci bags,” I told her. “And as for the price,” I continued quietly, “how much could a small wallet already cost?”
With that said, we packed the kids into our car for a ‘trip’ to the Ocean County Mall.
Once we reached our destination, my wife took our group to the women’s accessories department. In fact, her hunch had been correct. There, in the closed case, was a small assortment of Gucci handbags and purses. In my mind, their beauty was debatable and she kept asking me what was the greatest attraction about them, but I quickly dismissed the idea. rumors thoughts as the result of my “lack of education” in the ways of fashion.
“We’d like to see the Gucci bags,” my wife said to the woman behind the counter.
The saleswoman jingled her key ring as she opened the glass case and reached inside for the two featured purses. “These are the two styles we carry,” she said.
“Hmm,” my wife paused. “How many?” she asked.
“This one here is five fifty,” the salesgirl began. “And this one has seven,” she said.
I looked at my wife. She looked at me.
“Listen,” I told my wife. “The prices aren’t bad at all. We’re going to splurge. We’ll buy both. One for our hosts’ sister and one for you.”
My wife agreed. Generally accustomed to living on a fixed budget, we are both somewhat relieved by the affordability of the famous Gucci handbags.
“Ahem,” my wife cleared her throat as she began in total innocence. “Did you say the one on the right is five dollars and fifty cents and the one over there is seven dollars?”
The woman paused for a long, awkward moment as she seemed to digest what had been asked of her. Then, in the coldest, most unsympathetic know-it-all saleswoman’s voice, she corrected the blatant and unforgivable mistake.
“No ma’am, the cost of this one is FIVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS and that one is SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS!”
“Oh, I see, I’m so sorry,” my wife said very quietly as the blush of embarrassment rose to her cheeks. “We, uh, I think we’ll think about it. Thanks.”
Without another word, the saleswoman gathered up the bags, replaced them in the display case, jingled her key ring with a flourish, and slammed the glass door shut.
As we made our hasty getaway, we laughed together at our simple ignorance and unsophisticated expectations. How blissfully naive we had been! $550 and $700 for wallets adorned with a strange man’s name, in fact!
As fun as we knew the prices were, we still had one thing to take care of.
I telephoned our hosts in England and shamefully explained the situation. True to form, they got rid of everything, saying that the lost wallet was too old to be of any real value and that we should forget about the whole incident.
Gucci and me? Well, I can’t exactly say that although it’s been quite some time since the unfortunate loss of the Gucci bag, I’ve completely forgotten about everything. One thing is for sure, I know Gucci handbags are not on my personal shopping list because there HAVE TO be better things to do with my money. Still, the incident brings back gales of laughter as we remember our ‘wonderful lack of worldliness’ and the utterly absurd and ridiculous ways of the ‘polished and sophisticated’ world.
