A LUXURY problem, een luxe probleem

Imagine that you are a woman (or if you were a woman) with this collections. How long do you need time to choose between 5 or 10 cm heel, between dodger blue, aqua, cyan, light cyan or turquoise, between leather, syntetic or suede, and between Christian Louboutin, Prada, Steve Madeen or Manolo Blahnik?

Well, you chose one and you whispered to yourself while putting them on and breathing deeply, 'I'll take a risk with this!' You obviously doubted that they were the best choice for a morning meeting. You thought that you could look better but on the other hand, the time was too short to consider and went back to your shoes drawer.

During the meeting, by coincidentce, your sight hit your toe, and this time, you wanted to scream, 'WRONG! How come that I'm so stupid to wear this ankle strap heels!' you cursed your silly self. You looked people arround, your colleagues who normally say not much instead, they merely smiled. 'Do I look like a bitch? Or half a bitch?' you begged an answer, frustratedly.

''t is wel een luxe probleem!' (it's a luxury problem!) is one of common utterance that we in Dutch (Flemish) use. Personally, I find it quite interesting since in my language we do not have the same utterance. It just sounds funny to translate it literally. So I come to conclusion, that it happens because we do not have the context or because we do not experience the context.

A friend told me, just like a shoes analogy. 'It is actually not a problem at all. We have all here', he said. 'Why we should think that it is a problem, since we can choose what we want. We are happy.'

Perhaps he's right, but the reality often show us different. Is that that easy to be happy?

I know a person who just changed his old TV with the same age as him with a brand new Samsung flat screen. 'And where will you throw away your brother?' I asked.
'I keep it in my garage just anticipate if something wrong happen to my TV then I can change it easily'.
'You mean your new TV? If something wrong with your new TV?' I asked again.
He nodded.

I do not get it. In this free-piracy country where all electronic product get at least 3 year guarantee, in which I never ever experience blact-out, someone still thinks something not bad but worse can happen. I just don't get it? What should we have to feel safe, to feel secured? 10 years guarantee? or more? Can it make us free from the fear of uncertainty?

In a lazy afternoon, I sipped cinamoon hot chocolate a coffee bar near public library in the city. Observing the barista behind his coffee machine, I saw his facial expression when he poured the well frotherd milk seriously to make a latte art. He smiled with a satisfaction, I guessed, but I was suspicious, was he happy? So easy? Really?