Appeasement at Tiffany's

...the one in which turquoise becomes my favorite color...

Well...I can't leave you with such a negative post for the day...I figured I had to at LEAST finish the day with a positive post....

So let's go to Tiffany & Co.!!!!!

Actually, at this point in the day, I was in tears, and the LAST thing I wanted to do was to go to Tiffany's and pick out a birthday present. I really just wanted to throttle my husband and then drop him into the East River...but that probably wouldn't have been a good example to set for Daughter.

As if arguing on a crowded Manhattan street was setting a good example...but I digress.

So...we valiantly and bravely marched forth to Tiffany's...and by the time I walked through the fabled doors of their flagship shop on 5th Avenue, I had managed to pull myself back together.

Sparkly, shiny things that are super expensive will do that to you. They're medicinal, you know.

So...we walk into the hallowed halls of Tiffany's, and are greeted by several counters, full of jewels, gold, silver...and lots of other stuff that I couldn't identify but I was sure cost a small fortune.

At this point, Hubby is feeling a trifle bad about his temper tantrum on the streets (go figure), so he says, "Pick out anything you want."

REALLY???!!

Like I would do that. That could be very, very dangerous.

For example, I walked up to one counter, and after picking out a pair of beautiful diamond pave earrings, the salesman sniffed a bit disdainfully, and then informed me that they cost a mere $7,000.

{faints}

Yes, I am upset at Hubby...but I'm not stupid. Or delusional. Or ready for Divorce Court. (Or bankruptcy court, for that matter.)

I wandered up to the 4th floor, where products other than jewelry are located. Here, I fell in love with a stunning "Tiffany-blue" handbag:



This was beautiful, and certainly didn't cost $7,000, so I told Hubby that this would make a perfect birthday present. In no time, it was wrapped up in a signature Tiffany box:



And I was happy with this. ALL I had ever wanted - more than anything - was ANYTHING in a beautiful Tiffany box. Actually, an EMPTY Tiffany box would have made me happy - I think I just like the box. It's so pretty.

Hubby, still feeling a tad bit guilty about our argument on the street, then shocked me by saying, "It's not enough. You have to get something on the jewelry floor."

Well.

Who am I to argue with him?

Wait.

In lieu of the previous post, that's probably not a good thing to type at this point. However, a good wife knows when to pick and choose an argument - and if Hubby is telling you that you "HAVE TO" get something on the jewelry floor of Tiffany's -

THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU ARGUE ABOUT.

Write that down for the Tip of the Day. You're welcome.

Of course, I demurred...I mean, really, I didn't want to be greedy - and I WAS happy with the new purse. But he insisted. (Although I don't think he had to twist my arm, if I remember.)

So, we wandered back down to the ground level, and there, I struck up a conversation with a very nice sales associate, Carol Sandoval. I need to give her kudos here, because perhaps she saw a woman who'd had a traumatic afternoon - or perhaps she just loves her job - but whatever the case, she ended up being not only very helpful, but therapeutic, as well. It was in Carol's jewelry case that I found exactly what I wanted:



I know...it's not a gemstone. But in my mind, I wanted a statement piece that was definitively Tiffany's. A gemstone? I could have bought it anywhere. How would you know, unless I told you that it was purchased at Tiffany's?

But this...with the address of Tiffany's engraved on the front? This was unique. I would always know where it came from. I really, really liked it.

And it didn't cost $7,000.

Soon, with Carol's amazing help, I had a smaller box to go with my bigger box from before:



So...all's well that ends well. Before the end of our shopping excursion, Hubby and I were back to holding hands, and Daughter was not embarrassed to be part of our family unit.

There is a reason it's called retail therapy.

Peace.