In search of the most overpriced, frivolous luxury item at the Congressional pro shop

Congressional Country Club is one of the top venues on the annual PGA Tour rota, and it’s also one of the most exclusive. Unlike a many weeks on Tour, the venue is not some cookie-cutter TPC course wedged around suburban office parks in some mid-major market.

If you hang around the clubhouse during the Quicken Loans National, you’ll tread water in a sea of pastels, sundresses, croakies, and boat shoes. The membership, which is actually pretty large for a country club, includes many politicians and lobbyists, in addition to the usual country club set of lawyers, doctors, et al. A 2011 New York Times article said the initiation fee was over $100,000 and the waiting list was around seven years (and un-cited Wikipedia line says it’s currently $120K with a 10-year waiting list, and 2-year waiting list just to play golf).

So with not much happening on a weekend without Tiger Woods, I wandered into the clubhouse pro shop in search of the most overpriced, needlessly luxurious and frivolous item for sale. This was not the regular overpriced merchandise tent hawking gear with Quicken Loans all over it, but rather goods for sale with the coveted imprimatur of Congressional, a club that’s built itself into a big time #brand over the past couple decades. There was plenty to choose from, and I avoided the standard-fare golf shirt (most were pushing or over $100), hat, or other apparel item. Here’s some of the best of what I found:

This was just a small flap of leather. I’ve never had an issue putting a scorecard unprotected in a back pocket, or leaving it clipped to the golf cart steering wheel. But if you want to put it in between a piece of leather with the Congressional logo on it, go ahead.

This was just a plastic tube with a thin leather wrap around it. Most of the peasantry just put their cigars in a plastic baggie in their golf bag.

I’ll just use a napkin, paper towel, magazine, or let my cheap coffee table take the beating, thanks.

Smathers and Branson could probably be described as one of those descendants of the Vineyard Vines species, one of several in the proliferation of preppy fashion offshoots. They mostly specialize in needlepoint belts, and know exactly who they’re selling to. Here’s a very nice Congressional wallet for $115.

A most distinguished way to sip Mad Dog 20/20 Habanero Lime-Arita.

What, exactly, you do with this is up to you.

This was just a filler paper pad wrapped in leather. You will be dead by the time you fill it up with $125 worth of used filler paper.

★★★

There was so much to choose from (coffee tumbler for $35, something called a valet tray for $49 just missed the cut), but I was looking for the most unnecessary luxurious alternatives. The Congressional pro shop is obviously just a small cog in the market for these kinds of things, and presumably items were marked up for the tournament (or perhaps marked down for all the poors allowed access for this one week of the year).