It's no longer about the economy, it's about economising. But any fool - except perhaps a banker - can reuse their tin foil, writes Ann Marie Hourihane
AND THIS week's prize for the best name in insolvency goes to Hypo Real Estate. Come on, where did they get these names?
Never has there been a more clarion symptom of the financial community's fondness for cocaine - until now. Right now we have so much irrefutable evidence of the financial community's fondness for cocaine that the wacky names seem pretty meek by comparison.
In any case we have moved on. The human frame can only absorb so much shock. There comes a point where you kind of lose interest, and you have to wrap yourself in your hooded gym top or pants (€9.99 each at Lidl from this Thursday), turn on Midsomer Murders and pretend it's not happening.
Because it's not about the economy anymore, it's about economising. Because we have learnt that no one understands the economy, and no one can control it. But any fool - except perhaps a banker - can reuse their tin foil.
Sources close to The Irish Times have reported wild scenes at a sale at Superquinn in Blackrock, Co Dublin - and not just at its wine sale either.
Not so much panic buying as apocalyptic purchasing. One man, his arms full of kitchen towel, was heard to remark, "I'll be dead before I use all this stuff."
However, there is not much optimism about the ability of the Irish to economise. After all, economising takes fixity of purpose and a high degree of organisation. Our civil servants can't even arrange to have the lights turned out in the Dáil.
It is the nation's housewives, the poor bloody infantry of any economy, who constitute the only hope of us getting through this in one piece.
Economising can drive you a bit bonkers as well. Look at that nice English lady, who lived on cheese parings for a year, in order to buy her brother a good wedding present.
She survived on £1 a day for 12 months, drank coffee on park benches, ate sardines far more than was advisable and at the end of that time she was able to buy her brother and his new wife . . . membership of the National Trust. So that was well worth it, then.
You have to decide what you are economising for, but you also have to decide what, precisely, constitutes an economy for you.
As we speak there are a lot of Irish people in Tuscany talking about how they're going to cut back to the bare bones of three holidays a year.
The housewives of the nation have already decided that it is still worth travelling out of the State in order to do their Christmas shopping, and it would be a very foolish economist who would argue with them.
Presumably the dental tourism to eastern Europe will continue, because it is a money saver.
But it will be interesting to see if the plastic surgery tourism to Kerala, India, survives. There are those of us who don't really care about the property advertisements making way for the Lidl brochures (not that many of us round here, I grant you) .
But I can't really see the Irish brides buying their wedding dresses in Oxfam. Stealing their wedding dresses, yes. Murdering for their wedding dresses, yes. But buying them in Oxfam . . . it just doesn't work somehow.
In London investment bankers have already been spotted on the bus. The number 94, as a matter of fact.
The chances of our bankers doing something similar are somewhat slim. They have their pride, you see. And anyway, since our Minister of Finance has been so sweet to them, they don't have to.
I do like those lists of handy hints of sure-fire ways to get through the recession. But they are somewhat spoiled by dispensing advice that is only applicable to a small minority - "Leave the 4x4 At Home" . God, wish I'd thought of that . Advice that is five years out of date - "Shop German". Eh, hello . . . And advice that is too terrifying for those over the age of 30 - "Ditch Your Home Phone". Are you out of your mind?
No expert ever seems to suggest giving up expensive social habits which are pointless - like golf.
Where is the fearless social commentator who will suggest that this country could save itself an awful lot of money by turning its back on golf? Right here, sunshine.
Yet there is no shortage of advice for the recessionistas who are trying to work that most difficult of looks, crunch chic. Some of this advice is sarcastic - "Make a fascinator from cutlery and unpaid gas bills" sneered yesterday's Observer's Woman magazine. Thanks, girls. And much of it is unintelligible. (Note: A fascinator is one of those feathered things that brave female wedding guests wear on their heads).
Returning clothes to the shop which you have worn at least twice has already been tried by the less scrupulous members of the shopping community - my, those price tags must be scratchy.
And we've had enough of the fashion experts telling us to invest in basics. The term basics now denotes food and, possibly, heating.
There are retailers doing something useful. In the UK that recession flagship, TK Maxx, was stocking jackets with a sewn-in knife. The TK Maxx in Stephen's Green says it has never stocked these jackets. They've taken the sharp objects away from us.
What the hell, given our economic management they're probably right.