Remember when store-bought cupcakes meant one of those clear plastic containers from the supermarket? It was either chocolate or vanilla, with a mountain of mooshy rainbow – frosting and maybe a little plastic insert on top cheerfully wishing you a “happy birthday!” or “congratulations!”. They would generally make an appearance in class on somebody’s birthday, although the parents who really cared would bring in trays of homemade ones with the yummy homemade frosting that you could eat without feeling slightly queasy afterwards (luckily for my parents, I have a summer birthday).

A store-bought cupcake implies something much trendier now, with exotic flavors like “thai tea” or “margarita loco”, and hails from delicate counters in shops that look like something straight out of the pages of an Anthropologie catalogue. Despite all this they don’t taste much better (sometimes, much worse) but gosh aren’t they so pretty just sitting there?  Like artifacts from a cartoony parallel universe where unicorns and smurfs poop out frosting and fondant in perfect little dollops?  Surely that, and the take-home boxes made from eco-friendly cardboard and minimalist typography makes it perfectly acceptable to drop $4 a pop on a store-bought cupcake nowadays.

Oh, if i could have $4 back for every time i’ve unwittingly walked past into Sweet over the past two years.

(visit other cupcake pact posts — a whim inspired by the kickass  cupcakes from kickass cupcakes from christine‘s birthday)