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The time is here to display your jewelry on a beautifully designed metal mannequin stand. This metal mannequin is indeed a great interior decor for your bedroom too. The multipurpose stand can also be used to hang coats jackets or gowns in their perfect position. If you have a heavy jewelry place it on this feminine mannequin jewelry stand to give it the best display in your room. The mannequin stand gives your jewelry a better storage place than your jewelry chest where it could get entangled with one another. The beautiful mannequin with the precious jewelry will be the center of attraction for the visitors coming to your room. This beautiful metallic torso mannequin can also be used to hang your party dress before and after its use. With the full torso figure this lady mannequin cloth stand gets your party gown or winter coat perfectly fitted on it without causing any wrinkles. The standing torso mannequin is 57 tall and 18 wide on the shoulder. The female mannequin is made of solid metal frame with a round bottom that can be fixed on the floor. The heavy female mannequin in metal frame is designed in filigree pattern so it looks pretty even without any decoration.
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Why I Hate Capitalism
At my local mall – large indoor retail complex, for English readers – I was confronted by a woman in bridal attire holding a clipboard and instantly assumed she intended to sell me something; moreover, I was right. Is this the kind of atrocious marketing our democratic ideologies have spawned, by regarding the acquisition of private goods as principal above all else and immune to commonsensical reflection, I asked myself, morosely. I can’t even go shopping without being sold things now – I’m scared to leave the house.
Today however, I needed to buy a quantity of white shirts for recreational purposes, as man is wont to do, and found myself, after an improbable chain of events, beguilingly close to the city centre; steadying myself and removing several unnecessary layers of clothing, I entered Westfield’s unnaturally warm temple of consumerism, determined to remain an atheist. But alas, before I could reach my predetermined destination of low-priced apparel, my course was diverted by an appealing mannequin; SALE, 70% OFF, read the ironically oversized sign on its torso. “Why, this is nought but deplorable” I ejaculated, liberally furious, “there’s no sale here.” There were four or five lurid, hideous specimens of the abdominal garment hanging from a rusty, temporary clothes-rack. “You’re too late, sir,” (I assure you he said sir)“our sale items were diminished significantly in the past hour.” “Your exterior visage would suggest otherwise, nonplussed member of the proletariat!” I retorted. I was racked with sufficient vexation to induce my exit from the store right away; but that instant an upper-carcass sheathing, with its fashionable integrity, attracted me to stay.
“Why tell me good sir, what is the ransom on that leather jacket, just there?” (I had acquired this very information autonomously, but felt obliged to reconcile any disharmony, caused by my previous outburst, between the shopkeeper and myself.) Whether it was the ‘popular music’ bursting from the outlet’s gramophone, or the ‘funky atmosphere’ generated by a variety of ingenious entrepreneurial techniques, I suddenly felt compelled to buy something – relinquish my ‘hard earned dough’ to the faceless pocket of capitalism. ‘Get out of there, Chris,’ screamed my sceptical and probably socialist subconscious, ‘don’t let them subordinate you to Reaganism!’ “It’s seventy of the Queen’s pounds, mate,” offered the humble clerk. “Perusing its label led me to a different conclusion, mate, does it not read twenty before my very eyes?” “Oh, well some of those labels are outdated now. It’s definitely seventy, mate.” I was outraged at this fiendish, manifestly obvious scheming; was I to have surrendered such a sum in innocence, had I not possessed an inquisitive soul? I determined to leave the store with dignity and bank balance intact and green. Except suddenly I was sweating profusely from every pore; my limbs flailed uncontrollably; my temples throbbed – I still wanted the jacket. But why oh why? Did it have shoulder pads, was it made of tweed, did it match any of my other clothes – which were all made of tweed – no, it patently did not. What possessed me was only lust for expenditure, and aroused in me were inclinations to perpetuate the current economic system, by becoming a consumer.
Oh, but if only Marx had not a ridiculous growth of facial hair, and we could take him seriously, for I would not now be in possession of four square feet of dead cow, which I feel obliged to wear now and then. I too have suffered the result of reckless capitalism, a hankering for fiscal growth. Have we learnt nothing from the successful socialist states of…of…?
About the Author
I'm an English student from England. I write things occasionally. Influences include: Thomas Hardy, John Irving, Philip Larkin and Fernando Sorrentino. Favourite quotes: "there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," "either this man is dead or my watch has stopped" and "don't do that I'm asleep". My website's at: http://sites.google.com/site/outputemporium/
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