Once upon a time I lived in a four-storey townhouse in a ville with guards that saluted residents as they drove in and out of the gates. Next door was a local actress whose Mom doted on my spoiled rotten poodle. Behind us were neighbors who led lives even more glamorous than ours; and Enya’s arpeggio highlighted a domestic chore I did for fun: going through then hubby’s wardrobe for the help to sort out.
Oh yes, I had a live-in maid too. Luxury dinners with business executives, shopping in stilettos and fancy holidays were routine. To make it short, I had it all. Well, except for some epoxy that should have glued and held that life together. I do not want to go back though, despite all the fun. But it was a damn good life while it lasted, and I can smile at it now.
‘Some commercial this is,’ I thought when I wandered into this clip. The narration and images almost made me forget it was a commercial. I haven’t been thinking of such stuff at all since grad school where we analyzed loads of commercials and their impact on society. By virtue of its message, this one tops it all; at least in my books. It reflects many of those things I hold dear and want to keep forever.