What money can't buy? Youth, beauty, and love. Let's skip the love part for a while. When I was sixteen, I didn't notice the sixteen-year-old girls running around in their fashionable clothes, fancy haircuts, meandering in packs from Starbucks to Dunkin' Donuts. I really just didn't pay attention. But now, when I'm wearing a T-shirt remembering my early twenties (an item which should probably be thrown away by the fashion police) I realize that at a certain age you're just really not important. You're not Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid. And if you're over 25, God forbid, where is your husband and where are your children? The obsession with youth is like an obsession with time. You cannot stop the aging process. In your eighties, you're probably no longer sexy, fancy and glamorous. And reminiscing about the past is as hopeless as reminiscing about the time when you were 15 and you really lost those 20 kilograms. The Neon Demon. Nothing about education, experience, and personality. But a little scary neon parody of the overly important world of unattained, circulated around a young innocent beauty. I loved the ending.
