I feel I have simple needs and my lap of luxury would be very different from the next person's.
I, for example, am happy to eschew bottom warmers in car seats in favour of simple air conditioning.
Not too electronic and complicated, mind you, just an on/off button and a hot/cold knob would be fine (although it is possible that knobs have been phased out now).
My number-one luxury wish is way simpler than Rolls Royce's starlight roof. That's right, you can order a night sky roof for your Roller, with 800 to 1600 "stars" depending on which roof option you choose (moderate silliness or stellar silliness).
One hopes it is for passengers' use only.
We wouldn't want the driver looking for his favourite constellation instead of keeping his or her eyes on the ... crash.
The hoi polloi will just have to continue with the cheaper option if they want to crash. I speak, of course, of texting while driving.
Nor does my luxury wish involve a yacht, although I do have to admit to having owned two Lasers.
Neither of mine cost $4.5 billion! That's the sort of money you have to pay if you want special little "essentials": 220,000 pounds of platinum and gold covering; a liquor bottle adorned with an 18-carat diamond; a statue carved from an actual Tyrannosaurus Rex bone; assorted chunks of meteorite.
The Malaysian businessman who owns this 98-footer knows that these special little touches soon add up.
My luxury wish does not involve my phone, either.
Granted, some may consider my iPhone a luxury but it's only the basic model, unlike some which are covered in gold, diamonds and sapphires.
My only adornment is a crack across the screen.
You can pay up to $16 million for a jewel-encrusted phone but it must be comforting for the owner to know that the gold and jewels can be shifted to a new phone when the upgraded model comes out.
Even my burger desires are simple and reasonable: bun, sauce, gherkin, ground beef, cheese, caramelised onion, fried egg, lettuce, avocado, mayonnaise.
Not for me the excesses of New York's 666 Burger which produced a $666 burger in 2012.
It contained Kobe beef, foie gras, gold leaf and, get this, the gruyere cheese was melted with champagne steam.
I'd never thought of that for my burger; I just use plain old heat.
Are you starting to see how simple my needs are?
By now you will have no trouble believing that I don't even need my coffee beans to have passed through the digestive tract of an Asian civet.
Fair Trade beans in a paper bag are good enough for me.
I'll put up with ice made from simple tap water.
I don't need Glace Luxury Ice Co's five pieces of ice for $40. To be fair, that does include delivery. And it's guaranteed free of impurities.
It's not that I haven't experienced and enjoyed luxury (I have enjoyed a random upgrade to business premium) but, in general, I can make do with the simple things.
So simple, in fact, that my number-one luxury wish costs nothing! But it seems impossible to achieve.
The only luxury I ask for is the ability to wake up gently in the morning. When my body and mind are ready. Blissful.
So why can't it happen? Because madam dog licks me awake at a time of her choosing - as early as 5.30am - because she is excited about a new day to experience.
No need for a starlight roof, a diamond-studded water bowl or coffee beans pooped out by civets.
I think my luxury will remain a dream.
* Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, musician and public speaker.