Drama Queen

Introduction

Interview with the Author

Excerpts:
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  • Drama is an Elective
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  • "But I Thrive on Drama!"
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  • Drama's Roll Call
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  • Compulsive Spending
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  • Roommates

    Letter From the Editor

    Editorial: Having Our Say

    New Releases

    Authors On Tour

    Feedback

    Ordering

    Gay/Lesbian/Feminist Bookstores Around the Country

    The Mostly Unfabulous Homepage of Ethan Green

     




    Drama Queen

    Compulsive Spending

    From Drama Queen
    By Patrick Price

    As the name implies, compulsive shoppers display no self-control. Aside from being good for the economy, they're brutal on the ol' checking account. Compulsive shoppers are not necessarily even shopaholics, whose idea of a dream park at Disney World would be Coutureland, with such attractions as Kathy Ireland's terrifying Tour of Unnatural Fibers and Kathie Lee Gifford's controversial yet catchy boat ride, Put That Small Child Back to Work. Instead of being born with a silver shopping basket in hand, compulsive shoppers possess a financial Achilles' heel. We all have something that causes us to abandon our usual good sense and release the Inner Spendthrift. Imelda Marcos has her shoes. Tammy Faye Baker's got a soft spot for make-up. And Mariah Carey hasn't found a pocket square she couldn't wear as a dress.

    What's your weakness? Below are some instantly recognizable types, identified by their passions. If you see yourself, you're hardly alone.

    The CD Import Maven

    For the CD Import Maven, any "quick trip" to the music store becomes a two-hour scavenger hunt. He needs to be the quintessential authority of all things new. Frequently seen wearing high-tech headphones, lost in his own private step class, he can hear one thump and immediately name the exact artist, title, remix and producer. Now that's the mark of a true fan.

    But there's a cost for such devotion. Whether for import CD singles or twelve-inch dance records, he doesn't blink at dropping twelve to fifteen dollars for one or two desired tracks, which is roughly the cost of an entire album. By the magic of mixing, a three-and-a-half minute tune now warrants a two-CD, ten-version treatment. And he must have it all, although he knows at least two-thirds of it is filler. A worthwhile remix transforms a song, not merely extends it with an extra chorus or a two-minute introduction. Some remixes undoubtedly surpass the original. And above all, they can provide one very important purpose. We must never misguide some "artists" into believing they should put out entire albums.

    The Clotheshorse

    Does your fantasy home have three bedrooms, two baths, and fourteen walk-in closets? Can you beat even career Gap managers in the fine art of folding? And were you the only eleven-year-old who asked Santa for an armoire (and precociously knew how to spell it)? If so, these are telltale signs of a Clotheshorse.

    Clotheshorse

    A Clotheshorse understands the power of image. He's a one-man show with a costume for every occasion. Whereas most straight guys recognize only three categories -- dress-up (uncomfortable suit and tie), Casual Friday (Dockers and button-down), and just plain casual (jeans and old T-shirt), the Clotheshorse has an outfit for dental checkups, dancing on Tuesday versus a Saturday night, and walking the dog. All these options can get costly, and unfortunately many Clotheshorses are also label queens -- not only must they buy everything, but they must buy what they consider the best. Even the old jeans-and-T-shirt standby is harder to dismiss when the designer fitted T puts you back seventy-five dollars. Looking good is an art, but it needn't take a museum budget. If you catch yourself stopping to think "What would Tom Ford wear to mow grass?" you're already in trouble.

    Amazingly, even when confronted with rows and rows of options, you still complain that there's absolutely nothing to wear. Chances are you have plenty; it's just not what you need. It's time to take an inventory. Maybe you have more disco outfits than Cher but too little professional enough for work. Or with plenty of great suits in your closet, you're hoping clubs might institute Formal Fridays. Aim for a balance of personal fashion and function. Those super-funky designer outfits are nothing but glorified bridesmaid dresses: carefully selected, super-coordinated, spectacularly worn once and then, no matter how nice, shelved forever. You can't exactly wear it again next weekend and hope no one notices it's a rerun.

    Consignment shops are another temptation to avoid. We're not talking about the Salvation Army here. Instead, they're sort of like upscale yard sales with department-store prices. Yes, there may be bargains -- and its constant turnover is alluring -- but you'll be more apt to purchase foolishly if you start fearing that any break to "think about it" will result in someone else snatching the perfect item away. Instead of thinking clearly, you'll be huddled in the dressing room reluctant to part with anything. Now, that's not a good deal. So unless you want to be destined to a life of Woolite or forking over five dollars a pop at the dry cleaner's, don't worry if your complete closet is not straight off the runway. In fact, worry if it is.

    The Socialite

    Tally a few nights out and the brutal truth emerges -- being fabulous is no cheap feat. The scene-loving Socialite lives for Friday -- and Tuesday and Thursday and Saturday. In fact, any night is worth indulging. It's all about skipping past the velvet rope, weighing in on every trendy new restaurant, and loving how every bartender knows both your drink and name. Life is a party and with each new paycheck the possibilities are endless. But by Monday you hardly have enough left for lunch or gas -- although you clearly remember the ninth round of drinks was free!

    Somehow you spectacularly ignore the snowballing sum spent on cabs, gas, cover charges, cosmopolitans, beer, food and tips for the waiters, bartenders and your favorite go-go boy. Eventually you can't afford admission to this lifestyle.

    When the ATM is your best friend, try keeping an expense log for two weeks. It may surprise you to find all the cracks your money drops into. The shock will at least make you think twice the next time you offer, "Oh, it's my treat." Now you don't have to stay in all the time; just be sure to rotate your social life. Remember, you're hoping to relax and have fun with your friends, not single-handedly support every local business.

     

    Copyright © 2001 Patrick Price.

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