One-to-one, my friend is outspoken in her opposition to the preoccupation of some at our children's school with what could be called "status symbols." The temptation to own and display luxury items seduces the parents, the children and the teachers. These are surely guilty of bad taste or poor manners, hardly more. To not follow, yes, but I must check my thoughts because I can get angry at what I perceive to be superficiality.

A particular vulgarity, an obscene joie de vivre: "test driving" or joyriding in a friend's new convertible Jaguar around the school parking lot one afternoon at dismissal time. Can I be blamed at being offended?

The trouble is none of us families at the school are above reproach. It depends on our personal frame of reference. In particular, my friend decried the Coach handbags and Seven jeans that a kindergartener received from her parents for her birthday this year. I have never heard of Coach or Seven before but my friend told me these items are expensive. Her own handbag is D&B, "Dun & Bradstreet," I thought, and she was a little insulted when I said that.

I was buying my favorite perfume last week at Macy's and saw some D&B handbags on display, next to a display of Coach handbags. The D&B cost $200 and the Coach cost $300. To me, that isn't much of a savings. I didn't think that my friend with the D&B bag could claim to be living frugally. On our way to a hair appointment last week, I told her about my seven-year-old MUDD canvas handbag from Penney's that holds everything, including half-empty sippy cups of milk and half-eaten bagels and licked lollypops and goes through the washing machine on occasion. (OK, I don't play fair; I am the antithesis to fashion!)

Apparently, Dooney Bourke is a significant step down from the Louis Vuitton $1,000 purses that my friend used to tote when she worked at JP Morgan in Manhattan. It must be so frustrating to fashion name-drop around me because I am not familiar with any of it. I buy my perfume from Macy's and that's it.