Tonight the little angel introduced me to Ari's Seven Rings. Cultural appropriation aside, I need to react on a whole 'nother level. That's not really setting cultural appropriation aside ... I just have another subject to also introduce, and others have handled the appropriation better than I would. 

Dude. What is wrong with us? When are we going to realize that buying stuff doesn't solve anything?

Sorry, Ari. I just can't listen to this and take it at face value -- you've never been one to brag on your dollars before, and I just don't want to hear it now. 

Wearing a ring, but ain't goin' to be no "Mrs."

Bought matching rings for six of my bitches.

I'd rather spoil my friends with all of my riches,

think retail therapy is my new addiction. 

I'm picturing Ari and her girl gang with their new matching diamond rings, probably enormous diamond rings, and realizing once again that even though I personally look around at other people's diamonds and think they are awesome, diamonds are actully not fungible. We only care about them because a long time ago, a diamond miner decided we should celebrate marriage that way. Diamonds aren't rare. Think about it. Diamonds are like assholes, and everybody's got one. 

I'm not proud of the fact I look at other women's diamonds knowing that those diamonds have absolutely zero zilch zippo to do with the men's or women's who presented the diamonds love for their partner. Your love is not actually reflected in carats, regardless of what the industry would like us to think. 

I'm going to be forty-five in a few weeks, and I keep waiting for maturity. Why do I care about diamonds and square footage and thread count? Why do I think having nice things is a sign I've moved on from post-collegiate threadbareness? Why am I obsessed with replacing all my windows? Where does proper adult maintenance separate itself from superficial materialism? STOP THE MADNESS.

So when I hear Ariana Grande singing about retail therapy being an addiction, instead of being cool, it just feels far too real. When the world is hard and cold and scary and the government shuts down for a month and plays chess with people's paychecks and livelihoods, it's really damn tempting to bury your head in useless diamonds and real estate and anything that can insulate you from the suffering you see every time you turn on the TV. 

It's so tempting to think money could solve everything.

That diamonds held their value. 

That anything material could insulate us from pain or loss or fear. 

I'm not surprised not long after going through a ridiculously public break-up, Ariana Grande might be tempted to buy all her bitches engagement rings. It probably felt safe.

But if a diamond isn't actually worth money, then what does it signify? And why would we try to transfer that onto something like friendship that actually is worth more than gold?

I see it

I like it

I want it

I got it