5Cs to 5Bs: The Alphabet of Singaporean Love

On my recent trip back to Singapore, I bumped into an old friend at Takashimaya. As I was walking by Tiffany’s, I saw him buying something. I rushed in to say hello as well as to find out whether he was picking out a rock! Ooh how exciting I thought.

“Hello K! Long time no see.”

“Oh it’s you! How’s New York?”

After the exchange of pleasantries, I boldly asked if he needed to tell me any good news.

“No, I am buying a gift for my niece and I am also not going to get married in the foreseeable future!”

He sure sounded jaded but I didn’t want to probe further. So we picked out a gift for the birthday girl.

Then, K confided that he was dating a 25 year-old lady and how he came to relationship fatigue.

During my growing up years (K’s included), Singaporeans were criticised for being too materialistic. The relationship or marriage equation is simple: The man must have the 5 Cs to be deemed courtship-worthy:

1. Condominium

2. Cash

3. Car

4. Credit Card

5. Career

K told me how he had been re-educated about the alphabets of Singaporean love. The 25 year-old had told him that the girls today no longer crave for the 5 Cs, but the 5 Bs.

They want:

1. Not just a condominium, but a Bungalow

2. Not just cash, but a Billionaire

3. Not just a car, but at least a BMW

4. Not just a credit card, but own a Bank (gasp!)

5. Not just a career, but be a Boss

I would say, not only did I sympathise with K, I thought this to be ridiculous. If we were to measure love by material goods, then should we all be lonely souls because we deserve it?

I was flabbergasted, a tad disgusted by what I heard to say the least. If I were K, I would rather be celibate than give in to the impossible demands of women in Singapore. Or is it just Singapore? That is another question in itself.

K then told me that he was going to concentrate on his career, earn big bucks and buy a wife when he reaches 40. This is just sad. I told him maybe he hasn’t met “The One” yet and am sure she will not that avaricious.

In my generation, we were once capable of being ‘Mesdemoiselles Materialistic’; now the young girls are touted to be ‘Mesdemoiselles More-than-Materialistic’.

Surely there must be other versions of this alphabet of love, but I lament about the inflation of love. Can you imagine? Even love has to be put through economic inflation!

As I pen this, I simply ask myself, “What are we becoming or what have we become?”