So, right now as I write it, it's basically raining cats and dogs outside of the mall I am. The mall I usually visit is called Iguatemi, it's basically the main luxury mall in Brazil. It has all of the main entry-level luxury shops; like Bottega, Bali, LV and Tiffany. Basically everything a nouveau-riche dude falls in love after misteriously getting a large amount of money. So yeah, that's what I'm writing about. Once again, if you feel offended by anything I wrote, even in the slightest, it is your problem and issue for not aknowledging that different perspectives and lives can coexist without a problem. Fucker.
Anyways, let's go deep on it.
If you visit Sao Paulo and ask anyone what a rich person is, they're most probably going to mention either an influencer that's being sponsored by casinos (forbidden in Brazil), a megachurch pastor that's involved in at least 6 or 7 money laundering schemes, or just some random businessman that appeared out of thin air. Brazil IS a first world country if you look at it by the right perspectives. But some neighbourhoods, some behaviours, cultural aspects and politicians will make it seem like the same place that has the most expensive stores and rooms by square foot is a place supported by people who work 12 hours a day "without a choice". These same politicians however, are bagging minimum 70K a month. The influencers and bishops are getting a life where they can easily spend around 300K a month without having problems or insecurities related to food or housing. And if you're asking yourself how the lower classes are behaving nowadays, I'll describe it with a single word: Sheeple.
But that's not really a surprise. Even though Sao Paulo got some good shit, people in here (un)fortunately have this kind of belief that money is the root of all problems, being rich means you're stealing (ignoring how a huge part, id say 95% of the crimes are commited by the lower classes) and that you need to stuck to mediocrity your whole life, dedicating your existence to work and a day of rest.
Some left-wing parties in Brazil once convinced me that opportunities are not the same to everyone. That your boss, the dudes on TV, some dumb fucks on the street and that history itself (????) wants to see you poor and surrendered to what they call fascists (????????????). They showed me studies on how people with common surnames are most prone to not getting a high tier job, how people with a certain type of hair are often downplayed and seen as clowns (??????) and also some bullshit texts about how there's no white people in Brazil. Even though one day I've been blamed of being a white scum because of my surname. How original. That's their tactic, blame an invisible and proofless problem so they're seen as intelligent..
But, even though I was pretty young, I coulnd't say I completely fell for it. I had a "low-grade" job by the age of 19 years old and with the couple thousands of bucks I was getting by selling gourmet goodies, I got my first macbook air and a lot of Fendi products that I still use to this day. Products that lasted a decade and that are still good to wear after years on my closet. All that while some of my colleagues were studying in an elite-class university called Bellas Artes, getting at least twice of what I made every single week, owning high-end computers and phones. Yet, because of their narrative and their mob-mentality, I was not only a threat but also a "raging captalist that deserved to die in horrible ways.". Whatever that meant.
Those said "colleagues", often had expensive trips to their parents's beach homes, their uncle mansions in florida, but for some reason always played it off like they were too priviledged to play it cool for the people around them. Wich is kind of ironic considering they didn't really give up on owning any of the good bags by Prada, new-season iPhones/MacBooks, and bullshit projects that needed a budget of 9K to happen and not a penny less. It was almost comical if that kind of ideology wasn't so rooted everywhere.
So, with that, the main problem has basically been turned into who actually owns the money, who's up to share it and who's going to deny the large ammounts popping up on their bank accounts every night.
Y'all remember Matt from the other article? He was one of these people. Often spent 3K on weed and cheap LSD powder he called mescaline and exposed me on his facebook for spending $50 on iTunes to support the artists I loved, saying "Rich people have it better", "mental health problems are caused by billionaires" and the classical "Anyone who doesn't give money to the right causes are Nazi pigs.".
This whole situation, realizing how low-iq people usually target bigger enemies instead of theirselves for not being able to find a job, for not having a good life or having good quality items, made me always go along well with high-grade clothes and accessories, especially because most of these people who hated me for being rich, didn't think twice before buying the cheapest shits they could out of convenience.
In the very end, luxury is a term used by the lower class to explain a metric. This very metric measures how successful you are in someone's eyes, how jealous people are of you, and sometimes, how many designer branded items you're wearing at once. Basically, if you're a clown cosplaying a dude you seen on TV, you are now rich. So it's a pretty ridiculous conotation, considering that real richness comes from influence around your mediums and how they impacted the planet. Not some bullshit cap you can buy somewhere or how many stores you got in an area where most people are not buying shit from.
In the end of the day, I don't want you to believe owning Fendi alone makes you rich or better seen in society. Good shit only comes as a result of something honest you're doing as a living, because by the end of the day, what actually matters is your intelect and how you play with it. You could be serious, you could be doing it for fun, it doesn't matter. If it's honest and life-changing, you'll see the most everlasting results life could hand you. There's no such thing as a metric. Nothing explains it.
I don't really have shit to say here besides that my socks are soggy and that I'm lowkey annoyed at it. I think I might go meet Jennifer at the first floor and eat cookies.