Until today, what I knew about Tiffany & Co. can be condensed into three neat bullet points: Audrey Hepburn; robin’s egg blue; this blog post by Jezebel’s Joanna Rothkopf. Recently I learned that Tiffany & Co. might have a sense of humor—here’s the twist—I’m on board.
Courtesy of Town & Country, please behold the latest additions to Tiffany & Co.’s home and accessories line, a collection of new “everyday objects” perfect for the well-heeled priss with a devilish sense of humor, or me— a woman who wants shiny things, but no longer lusts after an Elsa Peretti bean necklace because I have finally realized that I lack both the gravitas and the collarbone to pull it off.
Why the pivot to Koons-derivative art pieces? Maybe it’s because millennials aren’t spending their money on blood diamonds and giant engagement rings, per this alarmist Digiday piece from September which illustrated the diamond industry’s sharp pivot to Instagram in an attempt to capture the attention of anyone with enough disposable income to cough up their hard earned cash for a 1.5 carat princess cut sparkler in a platinum Tiffany setting. [Gasps for breath.]
Or maybe Tiffany & Co. has developed a sense of humor about itself and its dour home accessories that scream “I LOVE CAPITALISM NOW POUR ME ANOTHER FUCKING TANQUERAY AND TONIC, YOU PIECE OF SHIT.” Which is what I say every night when I return from a day of blogging for money.
Let’s take a look at some of my personal favorites.
This is a $95 “paper cup” that is actually made out of “bone china” whatever the fuck that is.
Yes, I want a tin can that is not “tin,” but sterling silver, and I’d like to spend $1,000 on it. I’d use it as an ashtray on the roof.
My son Dimples Wilford Bromley will eat the finest applesauce and cut-up hot dogs off this $950 plate and if he drops it I won’t care because it won’t break!
Only the finest blocks for Dimples, a burgeoning captain of industry, born not only with a silver spoon in his mouth, but a fistful of silver LEGOS trimmed in walnut up his butt.
This ball of yarn will look very nice next to my $5,000 teacup Persian-Siamese mix, Monsieur Pamplemousse, who will spend his entire life trying to engage with this plaything in vain.
Would I set aside my general distaste for the institution of marriage so that I could register for every single item in this collection? You bet your bippy, I would, Monsieur Pomplemouse. Find me a senior vice-president at J.P. Morgan, slap a ring on this finger and march my ass to the altar.