Who the H is Chan Luu?

Sorry for the lapse in lively mockery of myself. I was on vacation for a week, and the week back has left me severely exhausted. I won't go into the details of why I am sore, lacking sleep, hungry, thirsty, and ugly. It's usually all the same reasons any way.

So, to make myself feel better, I went to Elizabeth Arden yesterday for an eyebrow wax and a collagen treatment. Of course, I didn't plan on getting the collagen, but like every other place I go, I got roped into it by the fast talking, smooth-skinned esthetician. It was relaxing though, and was just what the doctor (Walter) ordered. I got to wear a sarong, and lay under a warm blankie, with mittens on my weary hands. And, aside from virtually gluing my eyes shut with a wet wrap full of cucumber cream, and me feeling a bit panicky about my eyes being forced shut for 15 minutes (see A Clockwork Orange as a watery reference), it was quite a refreshing drink for my bumpy, dry, and mysterious skin (as she put it).

After the lovely treatments, I decided to grab lunch at one of my favorite cafes in Baltimore in the same shopping center. While I waited, I headed over to a place called the Jean Pool that carries jeans, great tees, and a few other trinkets. The Project Vintage tees were on sale for 50 percent off, so I was all over them, since they fit and wash really well. Meanwhile, I get engrossed in conversation with the owner Scott about his Cartier "Love" bracelet (he told me sadly no one has the key, and that he bought it for himself. That is so me!), and the new jeans he has in that are of course only in tiny girl sizes. We finally find one pair of AG jeans (my absolute favorite jean brand that were featured on Oprah for making your butt look smaller) that will fit me, so I'm excited. I try on one size smaller than I normally wear, since that was the biggest size he had in all his inventory, and basically it's sausage in its casing from hip to toe. Lord...why? After a few squats, and Scott assuring me they'll stretch, but at the same time not answering my rapid fire questions about how they look on me in the outside of fitting room mirror--What about my thighs? Are they rubbing? Are my saddle bags sticking out? Is my butt too old to wear these? I decide to get them. All the while he was likely texting his dinner date while I talked myself into buying them (as I do with most purchases). I don't even need a sales person, I do all the selling myself. I tell myself I can only get thinner from here, or they will stretch, or I can always return them (which there you cannot, and I never return anything anyway).

As this argument with myself continues, I roam the store for other finds. There is a display of using an unused paint roller atop a pile of jeans with about eight wrap bracelets tied to it. Very cool, leather with beads. I've seen these types in a few mags lately, and was digging them. I try one on my wrist, and around my neck, and we both decide it is a confirmed purchase. Now, he keeps telling me, "Yeah, they're the new Chan Luu bracelets." I hear him, but nothing is computing because I have no idea who that is. A few minutes later at the front counter, I see some black leather bracelets with similar beads and leather ties. They are $12 each, or three for $35. I decide they too must be mine as well. He tells me a local Baltimore artist makes them. So, I say, "Oh, is this the same person that does the bracelet from the paint roller?" He looks at me the way all gay male fashionistas do when you don't get it, and says again, "No sweetie, those are the Chan Luu bracelets." I'm thinking how I know a lot of brands, but I can't keep up with the thousands of designer jean and trendy jewelry designers, and that this is just another small designer I don't know. I have inserted a pic of the bracelet at hand for reference--cuz it gets pretty nutty from here (the one on the right is the crazy one, the left pic is the cheap one).

When it's all said and done, and he rings me up, the total is way, way more than I thought. I'm quickly calculating the half off tees, and jeans which were pricey, but still not nearly as much as the total he came up with. Due to the parties that may be reading this post, I will not disclose the full purchase amount. Sorry honey. :)
While I'm pulling a John Nash, trying to see the quantities and numbers in my head, he is pointing to the receipt telling me that the local chick's jewelry rings up separately and by hand, so it's not on the itemized list, and all this business about the $35 for those. Meanwhile, I'm thinking of how this all transpired. In typical Jen fashion, I'm too flustered and confused to say anything, so I decide I'll check it out in the car, then go back if needed.

I end up talking to my Mom the whole drive to work, so I forget to check the receipt again. Well, when I get to work, I get distracted until two hours after the purchase. I went into my wallet to get my CC out to pay for lunch, when I saw the bracelet, and decided to put it on. It still had the little hang tag on it with the price. When I saw it, blood flowed into every extremity, and I felt a mix of total shock and embarrassment at my stupidity for not looking at the price; kind of like the time I made a surprise poopy in my pants in third grade because I was yelling so loud to get this boy Matthew Pizarazz's attention (whom I liked btw), that I busted a vessel back there, and it all slipped out. I was wearing an off white matching sweat suit too.

The bracelet that pretty much matched my $12 bracelet was $189.
To my credit, as you can see here, the price tag was minuscule, and he had it with the "BG 1494" side up on the display, so there were smoke and mirrors involved in the merchandising of it. They lured me in. It's sitting on a paint roller for crying out loud, and all the other bracelets are between $12-24. Why would I ever think it was $189?

I immediately looked up Chan Luu online, and sure enough he/she is this celeb fave jewelry designer, all over every mag, and on everyone's wrists . I told the guys at work, and of course, they all laughed at me, and we all told stories of how this has happened to us, where we thought something was cheaper, and at the register it ends up being so much. Although, all of their stories ended with them putting the item back. Mine ended with me wearing it all day, and living with the guilt of it. I think it's mostly because it's not worth the money at all. It will probably be out of style next week, and I'll be wearing a feather dangling toe ring instead.

At least me, Madonna, Reese, Katie, Rhianna, Jen, Nicole, Halle, and Drew have all been saddled with the hefty price tag of this luxury item. I wonder if they 're feeling the same way about the blow of this $189 on their bank accounts?