I was on the subway today (as a PLRG in this economy, cabs are an absolute no-no), staring at my nails and thinking about a conversation I had with my friend Jordan. We decided, what with the entire world basically going to shit, and our beautiful city going with it, that we could no longer continue with our weekly routine of lunch and manicures. So, we agreed, we would forgo our weekly lunches (unthinkable, if you eat like we do) for the duration of the recession (gasp!) if it meant getting our nails done. I thought about the color of my nails, a bright red color from Essie, called Poor little Rich Girl'.
And that is just what we are ladies, so you are not alone. We are young women working in NYC who thought by now we'd have 8 credit cards and money to spare, but who learned the hard way that our fabulous city is an expensive one, and these are tough times. But we also have dug out some of the best places to eat, shop, drink, be pampered, go on dates (not as many as we'd hoped, but, thats for another post), and we'd like to share those with you.
We'd love to hear your comments and feedback, and everything your cute poor little rich girl asses are doing to survive these times.
XOXO, plrgs
The economy has been calling for a girl like you Amanda. Unfortunately with the MTA prices sky-rocketing (monthly passes subject to change from $84 to $104), what's a girl to do? I guess it's better than daily cab rides, but come May I might have to forego the $100 pass, whip out the sneakers, leave early for work, get my ass a-walkin' and enjoy the urban outdoors....plus maybe I'll work off some of this winter blubber I've been toting around (let's call that silver lining). Just an idea ladies...
ReplyDeleteI totally agree Brittany. Getting a real job post grad, and moving to the Big Apple, I assumed I would automatically be able to enjoy all of the luxuries that I wanted to. The real world and a real salary...it turns out I was so very naive. Rent, cabs, dinners, trying to be as trendy as the next NYC-er, and don't forget the drinks (that is until we become DABAs...but that's another story) sure do add up. Keep the Poor Lil' Rich Girl advice coming Amanda. Girls like us need some direction in this big city on how to still feel rich, in this poor economy.
ReplyDeleteBrittney, Michelle, Amanda, and any other PLRG out there, my do I feel your pain. While I cannot provide any of you with the bailout checks you so desire, I can shed some light on being a PLRG. Unlike you all, I am not a member of the PLRG society. No, no, no. I am a PLRGWNF. For those of you who are not familiar with this anagram, I am a Poor Little Rich Girl With No Future. :) As of now, I have no job, no prospects, no scheduled interviews, nothing. Lazy? Nope, wrong again! On the contrary, I have been emailing my polished little fingers off day and night in an attempt to “make contacts” or “network” as my mother so subtly suggests is the only way I will ever get a job. And are these emails met with kind “Sorry, what with the economy, we’re not looking to hire anyone new right now” responses? Nope. Are they met with brutally honest “I’m trying to keep my own job and there’s no way I’m going to waste my time trying to help you out” responses? No, of course not. Instead, I receive nothing. Nada. No response at all. Actually, I take that back. I did receive one reply in the past month that said a mere two words:
ReplyDeleteHIRING FREEZE.
So now, with 61 days of college left (but who’s counting?) I sit here reading this blog and wonder, would it really be THAT BAD to be a PLRG? The answer? DUH. But it can’t be worse than being a PLRGWNF…
I beg of you, don’t attack me with comments like “Enjoy your last days of college” or “Relish in the time you have living off your parents” because trust me, I am. But when you put that designer top back on the rack or walk by that nail salon and try desperately to ignore the glorious smell of the polish remover and top coat, just picture me and all my fellow PLRGWNFs living at home with our parents. Imagine us schlepping into the city via train in order to have a decent Friday night and passing out on someone’s couch or worse, imagine us on the 1:53 train while you all peacefully pass out in your conveniently located Murray Hill apartments. Doesn’t seem so bad now does it?