My ex used to call me "rich bitch", which was hella rude, especially coming from a Frenchman who has taken on American greed like a fish to water. Obsessed with money is an understatement in his case. Maybe it's a cultural thing (the American ability to achieve unimaginable wealth and success despite one's social standing or education), but ravenous or gluttonous would be an ample way of describing his lust for all things monetary and material.

I guess my disgust really came about from working in the materialistic hell that is Neiman Marcus. A store filled with nothing but expensive crap you don't need, and watching the gluttonous behavior of it's customers. Many of which shop to fill the void that is their sad, miserable existence. Or if you were a male customer, gifts for the mistress. Hoping a $5000 Chanel handbag will dull the pain away isn't just sad, it's pathetic. Wouldn't it be more fulfilling to give it to charity? If helping people isn't your thing, at least think of the tax write off? The only customers who really got any respect from me were the stripper chicks who'd run those old git's Amex cards into the red. I don't advocate hustling your punane for shoes because those Louboutins don't have good resale value, but at least they weren't stupid enough to just give it away for free. 

Any how I will admit to being bougie. But most of my bougieness comes down to my living situation. That's probably why it's taken me so long to find a flat. You have to remember everything in America is about space and upgrades. And while I may love the outside of most Parisian buildings, I'm not so much into the inside looking like it hasn't been touched since 1932. Overexaggeration i know, but it's one thing buying a fixer upper, renting one not so much.