If you think that bargain bin basement shopping is at odds with the hoighty-toighty label-whoring that goes on in these parts, you don’t know me very well. I’m more likely to be found prowling the clearance racks at Marshall’s or Nordstrom Rack than perusing the full (over) priced items at Barneys or Neiman Marcus. (There’s only one area in which I insist on going high-end: fragrance. You just can’t go the bargain fragrance route or you’ll end up smelling like a college disaster. Cool Water? Fool Water. Curve? Swerve. One? Done.) As for the rest, all of it is up for grabs, including – and especially – jewelry. I can’t justify investing any serious money into something I’ll wear once or twice to a party or special occasion. And so we end up with a missing jewel.
When seen from afar, it may not be seen at all. And for specific tattered looks of bohemian ruggedness, such incidentals might as well be intentional. Besides, I like the idea of something flashy being somewhat tarnished. We could all use a little polish on the crown now and then, and there are worse things than missing jewels.
