Cindeurella: A cautionary tale for maiden currencies

Once upon a time there was a very poor girl who wanted to be rich, go to the ball, date princes and have an Iphone. An old stranger offered her a beautiful dress made of Euro and told her to be back at a certain time unless which her dress would change back to the drachma, peseta, escudos, and what not that made up her rags

Nobody would really have expected her to end the fun and go back to her misery, nor is it really known what was the whole point of the exercise if she had to come back, but that was the condition imposed

As young girls will, she forgot about the time and she had to run not to be seen in her old currency in front of the court. As the poor thing came back to her harsh reality, it became clear that the prince had been less than a gentleman: Apparently more than dancing and eating had been going on at the palace and now her virtue had been lost. He had also extended generous credit to her, which she used in buying a heap of junk made in Germany. At the moment it had seemed glorious to be able to acquire all those shinny things but now that she remembered how much debt she had underwritten, she felt dizzy.

Worse still, the prince had emitted an edict to chase the girl high and low and have her pay her debt back. The terms of the edict made it impossible for her to get more credit, because it made clear that creditors would have to bear some pain in any (very likely) restructuring. There was word that he was saying that the only way forward for her was to work harder and save every penny she saved to pay him back. She thought with dismay of the pay she received and again about how much debt she had piled on. If only she could get one more Fendi bag she would feel so much better…

She knew she had not acted in complete good faith either. She had gone to the ball with the undisguised intention to get an engagement from the prince as an easy way to a comfortable life beyond her means. She was not interested in working hard or saving money: her aunt had done that and what Cindeurella had learned from that experiment was that life is short, beauty lasts only so long and, let’s face it, it is impossible to get rich through hard work. Worse than all, working is not fun.

But the prince had said he was not ready to compromise and, truth be said, he was not good looking at all. He was a nice salesman, though, always ready with the latest gadget to look prettier, be cooler and try to snatch all those fine looking boys from the many competing maidens. Her new Euro allowed her to buy a lot and the best part was that she kept on getting all that marvelous credit against her dress which gave her acquisitive power, without even having to take the dress off! (this was a true revolution in Cindeurella’s view of the world and I am tempted to say that it was a novelty in human history too).

Now things had turned horribly wrong: she had had to run to her den for cover and that horrible merchant prince was all over the place with his edicts, wanting her to forgo her dress, after all. Her late mother had warned her, men are all the same. If she could only buy another pair of Manolo’s she knew she would be able to think of something…

There was only a ray of hope. Even the prince knew that, if forced to work (or worst!) to pay her debt, chances were that Cindeurella could never get out of her poverty, let alone pay the debt. Besides, he had become addicted to selling her stuff. The only purpose of his life seemed to manufacture things, that he would later try to sell. She didn’t understand what the purpose of all toiling might be, since he didn’t enjoy any of the pleasures of life, but that was besides the point. Maybe now that he had found a willing client in Cindeurella, he would do anything to keep her on buying. If she could only get some more credit she would buy herself just one more pair of earrings, just one more… ok maybe the earrings and a new pair of shoes to go with them and then she really, really would… Oh, who knows, just do something to make things right!

This is a truly modern tale and hence, it carries no moral. It would be difficult indeed to offer one for, who’s more to blame here? I have no idea, my children, but if I am hard pressed to say something I would maybe offer that Cindeurella is closer to my heart. At least, she once lived…

Advertisements

About Outis

Nobody is cooler than you
This entry was posted in Cindeurella, Eurotrash. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s