On the agenda: Jude Law; The X Factor; end of the classic VW camper van; online vouchers
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Middle-class problems: Online vouchers
By Marianne Levy
'Want to come out for some food? It's Swedish-Vietnamese fusion. And we have to go by tomorrow lunchtime."
I have a friend who is addicted to online voucher schemes. I've brunched on the other side of the city, the Sunday vibe rather undermined by a 6am start. I've drunk five cocktails in two hours when one of the group neglected to tell us he was on antibiotics – we'd paid for them, we had to have them – and eaten a seven-course tasting menu, each dish more innovative, and more revolting, than the last.
My friend's particular weakness is food, but a glance at one of the industry's leading websites shows a make-up masterclass, a reflexology course and – dear Lord – colonic irrigation. Who buys a cut-price bum rinse? Well, 181 of you have handed over your credit-card details, and there's still six hours of the deal to run.
These sites are the online world's January sales. There are gems to be had, but mostly you're looking at the equivalent of a snakeskin and Lurex cardigan; there because at full price no one in their right mind would go near it. But add a countdown clock and a discount and suddenly it's surprisingly enticing.
After a year of my ingratitude, my friend has just spent her last voucher – and I'm feeling strangely bereft. The deals may be absurd, time-consuming and costly. But they were frivolous, fun, and most of all, they added a little spontaneity to an otherwise humdrum existence. I'm almost tempted to sign up myself. Almost, but not quite.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments