Manolo Blahniks, hypocrits and pikeys; and not a highstreet in sight

As I sat drinking my decaff fair-trade tea with soya milk this morning, I started to wonder if I was becoming a cliché guardian reader. Then I looked down as my ripped jeans and my brother’s old jumper I was wearing and realised that perception is nine tenths of society’s flaw. The sad truth of the world is that people are judgemental. If I went to work in these ripped jeans the London commuters would probably expect me to ask them for spare change. This saddens me, why should we instantly respect the man in the suit – I’ve seen said men in suits regurgitate their city booze into the train toilets like the rest of us. Posh or pikey, we’re all the same on the inside. Does it really matter if your clothes are from Moss Bross or Mind?

I overheard some girls recently saying how they’d spent £200 in the shops. One said she couldn't wait til she had a job so she could buy loads more stuff. My little brain nearly exploded on receipt of this information. Firstly, £200 of shopping when you don’t have a job? Secondly, surely there’s more to life that shopping? It’s sad that young women today aspire to be like Victoria Beckham or other female celebs who achieve nothing but become style icons and (I use the term loosely) “role models” because they spend money on designer clothes and have famous husbands.

Standing on a busy train out of London, surrounded by the suited and booted is a depressing experience. Silence fills the carriage as everyone, tired from a days work sighs in relief that they are going home. Why do they do it? They all look miserable and overworked and what for? To be able to afford ‘stuff’? This isn’t life, this is self inflicted slavery. These people aren’t free; their chains are made by Cartier, their shackles by Manolo Blahnik. And with falling interest rates there really is no incentive to change this lifestyle. The government wants to encourage spending and borrowing which means these slaves to materialism will keep shopping. I in the meantime will keep my hypocritical judgements in check and stop admiring fellow commuter’s shoes.