Boys like shiny… Yesterday I was invited to a garage sale to buy pre-loved clothing and household items either from ladies who want to either clear out their stuffed wardrobes or from housewives whose husbands shower them with clothes but sting on actual cash.

When you hear “Garage Sale”, what comes to mind is a pleasant afternoon in someone's backyard, sipping cold Cocacola while sorting through old junk to buy at giveaway rates.

Not so, apparently.

First off, the so-called garage sale was held at a fancy venue somewhere in Victoria Island. This should have set off alarms but my shopping instincts must have taken over my mind. At the venue, no cheap drinks or sandwiches were on display, rather I saw fancy pastry and sparkling water ($5 a bottle) at the confectionery stand which was complete with glass cake stands and a white-capped chef.

The hall was filled with ladies flitting from stand to stand like beautiful superficial butterflies and, of course, yours truly joined the flock. My first stop was petite lady's who had her used shoes and purses on display. I spotted a pair of burgundy Ferragamo pumps, requested to try them on and immediately a lackey brought forth a plush rug for the purpose. They fitted me like a glove and I was pleased as punch. I asked the price, ready to drop my Naira notes in worship of these gorgeous heels.

“It's $600”

A double take.

600 dollars? This is supposed to be a garage sale. Slowly I became aware of other price quotes around me.

“Just $250”

“Take that for $100”

“It fits! That's $320, right?”

Buyers and sellers genteelly bargaining in oil barrel currency while I stood rooted to the spot on my island of poverty.

On closer study, I came to realize one unifying factor in the room – everyone, every last one of them was shiny.

Literally.

Every lady had some bling on her, whether it was $300 pearls or $500 diamante rings. Not for getting the fact that they were all brilliantly yellow with glossy skin and perfectly made-up faces. Most of their clothes had sequins or shimmering stuff which dazzled the onlooker who, unfortunately assumed (wrongly) that a pair of jeans, t-shirt and sneakers were appropriate garb for a garage sale. Snatches of personal conversation reached my eager ears.

“I told Kola that I want to go to Morocco this summer, but he insists on Dubai…”

“I was telling my husband the other day that if he doesn't know what to get me, he should pick a Prada…”

At the end of my highly embarrassing afternoon, I came to the realization that Boys Like Shiny.

No matter how macho a man is, some innate sense in him is attracted to all things shiny. In fact, the more ubermenshe he is, the more shiny his girl is. Forget all the talk of inner beauty and great personality being primary attractions to the men folk. It's all about the look, first impressions, before the man gets down to investigating the finer qualities of the lady. It follows simple logic: we look, then we approach, then we investigate, then we decide whether to move on or stay put. I don't urge you to become the scarecrow Coco with a botoxed face and siliconed breasts; nor do I wish you to be as ultra-ditzy as a Barbie, but the fact remains, dear lonely reader, that the world does judge you based on first impressions and it wouldn't hurt to clean up your act, even a little bit.

No one likes to be left behind, especially in the quest to find a man who gives $5,000 as lipstick money, an adoring husband who quarrels with me over the next holiday spot. I want to proudly join the ranks of the uber-glam who ditch proletariat garage sales for glitzy Hollywood Boulevard soirees.

Slap on the make-up, glitter and gloss. Flutter my hands and squeal in delight. First steps to my #100 DaysOfGlam

Lolade odunsi Phipps lives and works in Lagos Nigeria,she runs the auntysocials speed dating events and tweets via @expenshizzle

http://hibe-online.com/boys-like-shiny-2/