“Women,” so often the possessive types, are almost always the offenders behind getting material items monogrammed. Maybe because they can never really claim the “men” who “belong” to them, they have to at least assert complete dominance over the middling personal effects that do (though this seems to be a moot point when Michael Kors bags tailor-made for clitless “women” already have “MK” emblazoned all over them).
Whether it’s her towels, her beach tote bag, her slippers or her goddamn mug, there’s no shortage of supplies a “woman” can take the time and money to mark with the stamp of her initials. And then, when she manages to finagle a child from some unwitting and unwilling dick, she’ll then monogram all of that “girl’s” unfashionable material goods with her initials as well, which gives the mother in question an added wetness where her clit’s supposed to be for playing god over choosing the letters that make up her child’s name in the first place. So the cycle for monogramming continues, with backpacks, baby booties, rompers, what have you now adding to the list of things that the “woman” can stain with her vanity and predilection for acquisitiveness.
But the “woman” truly cognizant of reality knows that we own nothing, for that which we try to cling to so vehemently always ends up owning us.