I want a Kelly. It has taken me a long time to utter these words, but here I am. The Hermes fund is full and contact made with a sales associate. Yet I feel no closer to getting one.
The reality that I cannot just waltz into a store and buy my Kelly perplexes me. Isn’t the end goal of a store to sell its merchandise? I understand the laws of supply and demand and if they’re “sold out” I can’t buy until there’s new supply, possibly at a higher price. Economics 101.
The kicker is, from what I read and hear, that while there may be none for me, Ms A or Mr Z have their pick of the limited lot. They get “offered” bags. The concept alone is mind-boggling. Is my money a different green than theirs (preferably Hermes bamboo which is stunning . . . but I digress)? Do I need to slip cash into the palm of a sales associate, as though I’m seeking a faster or better table at a chi-chi restaurant? Or must I declare my loyalty to the H brand by purchasing thousands of dollars of merchandise I may or may not want?
Or worse, am I simply at the whim of the Hermes deities? Trying to buy a Kelly is like an episode of Seinfeld – where the soup nazi decides who may purchase soup. George and Elaine are denied because they fail to follow proper soup-ordering procedures and annoy the soup man. Perhaps my Kelly is really lobster bisque.
Thus far I am not one of the Chosen people. My sales associate was lovely and took down my information, but I have no confidence she will call. I remain intimidated by the Orange and think twice before crossing the threshold. I also do not have the luxury of time or the inclination to be a frequent visitor . . . or as I call it, a nudge.
The longer the wait the more likely my shopping itch will be scratched elsewhere. I tell myself that I don’t really want a Kelly. Maybe that will work.
No Soup For You
Please Hermes Gods, may Maura have some SOUP? (and I’ll take another serving too…)