Secret Currency of Love

A couple months ago my former boss at HarperCollins contacted me to help out with makeup on a video shoot. The book was called The Secret Currency of Love: The Unabashed Truth about Women, Money, and Relationships and its a collection of essays from various women, speaking openly about how money has played a role in their relationships.



Since the shoot I've thought a lot about my own relationship to money. For one thing, it is still taboo talking about the topic, there's no doubt about that. People judge you on money and maybe that's why the topic has always made me completely uncomfortable.

I've claimed for years that I have no interest in money whatsoever, which is only partially true. Mostly I just don't have money and can't really see myself ever having much of it so I tend to go on the defensive. "What is money anyway," I'll chime, "Other than bits of paper that float in and mostly out of my life?"

And I've certainly never considered money much of a selling point when it comes to dating. "I hate men with money," I've been quoted saying on many occasions. Really I just hate men who flaunt their money, the bankers with their extravagant nights on the town, who talk of nothing but their posh vacations and fancy gadgets. I once faked a migraine on a dinner date with a banker from Merrill Lynch (wonder how much gloating he's doing these days). I was just never impressed. What I was far more interested in were the men who were doing something they love despite the poverty it brought. Of course, I quickly learned that often "Brooklyn artist" is synonymous with having "lazy Peter Pan syndrome."

"You'll see things different when you're a little older," I was told again and again but I didn't agree. I would never see money as a turn on. I would continue to date bartenders, starving artists, struggling musicians forever. Or until I turned 26 and realized I was kind of over it.

Being 22 and struggling is sexy. Its dangerous. It makes a bad boy. But I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that after 25 you have to start getting your shit together. Including me. I recently compromised and dated a banker by day and a struggling musician by night. It was to me the perfect combination. He was realistic and had drive but didn't give up on his dreams in the process. To be honest, I think I was the one who came off as the child. I'm 26 and I do the same job I had at 15. I went to a top University and for some reason work 20 hours a week at a bar. I can no longer actually pay my bills. My lack of interest in money is finally catching up with me it seems. And I don't think its impressing anyone.