My Claustrophobic Happiness

Like so many of us La Betty had been inculcated with the notion that gold is precious. La Betty had readily observed that gold bestows its majesty upon a wealth of useful as well as superfluous products.

La Betty was especially charmed by gold leaf. Almost intangible, divinely flat, gold leaf was a marvel to La Betty. She loved gold lettering on pebbled glass, the metallic bubbles of Danziger Goldwasser, the calm chill of Cleopatra Gold facial sheets, dainty 24 karat champagne Jell-O cubes, delectable gold-polka-dot chocolate truffles.

One evening La Betty tried to wish herself into a gold chrysalis. La Betty believed that the happiest butterfly in the world is the oleander butterfly – because its chrysalis is gold. And the silver air holes on the oleander’s chrysalis are serenely ornamental. Gold, she thought, inspires other butterflies. La Betty clothed herself in her antique green silk Fortuny dressing gown, white silk stockings and her baby harp seal fur slippers. La Betty anticipated ecstasy.

La Betty stood in the middle of the living room as if she had just alighted on a pink oleander blossom. In La Betty’s version of metamorphosis the ethereal butterfly glides directly into its golden pod. La Betty wouldn’t disgust herself thinking of caterpillars and eggs.

Soon La Betty felt ensconced in a golden chrysalis. If only this could be her world. Her condo walls would move closer and closer to her chrysalis. So enchanting is the power of gold that the condo walls would dissolve into it. All furnishings and ornaments would go flat as gold leaf, and then be absorbed.

A gilded constriction began. The constriction continued inexorably, but La Betty’s highly volumized hair could not fit into the chrysalis. La Betty’s blond hair bunched up in a curly mess. It flopped out the top of the chrysalis and blocked the air hole. La Betty began to gasp. She couldn’t wiggle or inhale deeply. La Betty was immobilized. Errant strands of blond hair were in La Betty’s mouth, her arms were bounded at her side, her rings grinding into her fingers, her silk gown hiking up above her knees. What little air was left in the chrysalis smelled like cheap aftershave.

As the chrysalis continued to suffocate La Betty, she realized the truth of her predicament. La Betty was in the grips of a perverse interruption. A hostile entity had her in its golden grasp. A conniving imp was masquerading as the gold chrysalis. It was restraining La Betty like a bewitched girdle. The fake chrysalis kept pinching La Betty all over, and claustrophobia began to squeeze her even more. This phantasm’s intention was to torment La Betty till she embraced whatever despicable conviction it upheld. The fiend was now set to attain its perverse ambition. It was tempting La Betty into masochism, an attitude that results from a inescapable metamorphosis:

“Obsessions are worth attendant annoyances and trouble. The annoyances and trouble become familiar. You find yourself accepting these pains. Next you anticipate them. Eventually when you anticipate them you will not cringe. You will begin to welcome them. If finally you crave them you have developed a masochistic disposition. Forever more you can enjoy both your obsessionand the pain! A person who enjoys pain is more fit for the human condition than one who avoids it.”

Instantly La Betty gloated. The false chrysalis had stupidly miscalculated the basic fact of pain – it ignites awareness of the body.

La Betty’s body was fictional, and La Betty knew her lifestyle was permanently set on the plane of Spectacle. La Betty’s flat iconic vision of life was virtually Byzantine. The gold backdrop of unnatural Byzantine saints matched La Betty’s style perfectly. La Betty owned absolutely everything necessary to adore images much more than time or space. La Betty mocked the masochistic imp: “Kinky-Curly Curling Custard: This volumizing gel is sure to boost your blow-dry!” Yet it was La Betty’s massive gyrating coiffure that shattered the chrysalis; it sprinkled to the floor in a zillion specks of golden glitter.

La Betty began to breathe triumphantly. Each inhalation was as fresh as a Finnish zephyr. La Betty was eager to celebrate with a spontaneous oration. She wanted to sing. But all La Betty could think of was ingredients for the most expensive bath in the world,

Me Bath, with 100% certified Hawaiian deep-sea water, enriched with rare Sidr honey, hand-harvested Peruvian pink salt, rich illipe, murumuru and kokum butters, Israeli jojoba oil, and 24-carat gold.