In the course of research into “global trends 2009” I came across the following:
I love Ex-boyfriend Jewelry—if ever there was a market need perceived & met, it’s got to be this site. It’s not just the merchandise, although some is distinctly interesting. It’s the vignettes that accompany the pieces, which give you a glimpse into the relationship(s) that spawned the sales. I mean:
“Dog Gone and now jewelry must go too!”
“Earrings were purchased by my first husband, must sell!!”
“The Bastard got someone pregnant before the wedding! Here's to the 3 of you!”
“Il m'a trompé alors je l'ai laissé et je me venge en vendant tous les bijoux qu'il m'a offert.”
“My story is just about the same as all the other's. Husband cheats, gets caught, cheats again!!! Want's another chance....I don't think so....D*I*V*O*R*C*E*D”
Plus—the catch-all “Gifts that Should Have Been Jewelry”. 'Nuff said.
There’s just something so delicious about this site. I have to say I’d be concerned about possible bad karma associated with this stuff, but maybe some serious sage burning would take care of that.
On a somewhat related, “finding a niche in the market” note, I also give you Sarah’s Smash Shack. Speaking from personal experience, smashing glassware or crockery is super therapeutic. & having a “neutral” place to do the smashing obviates having to explain yourself to neighbors who want to know why you’re throwing glasses against the concrete wall.
I see franchising opportunities here.
From The Nerd, by Larry Shue, Act 1:
ReplyDeleteCLELIA. Oh, dear. I wonder if I could ask you—I wonder if you have anything—?
TANSY. A hanky?
CLELIA. No—I wonder if you have anything I could—break.
TANSY. (After a moment.) What? Break?
CLELIA. (Apologetically.) Yes, just—something small. Sometimes it's all that will help. It sounds silly, I suppose—
TANSY. Oh, no, no. Uh, let's see—(Looking around.) well—anything in particular?
CLELIA. No... A little saucer, something.
TANSY. A little saucer. Uh—fine.
CLELIA. Nothing expensive, now. I can do without.
TANSY. Don't be silly. I don't want you to sit here all night with—without anything to break.
CLELIA. I usually carry little Woolworth's saucers, but I see to have used my last one at the orchard.
TANSY. (Finding a demitasse saucer.) Here, will this do? It's just a demitasse.
CLELIA. No, that's fine. (A little sadly.) Those are my favorites. (She takes a handkerchief and a small butter knife from her purse, spreads the handkerchief neatly on the table, lays the saucer on it face down and, using several small, efficient strokes, pulverizes the dish with the knife handle. She sighs.)
TANSY. Another?
CLELIA. No, I'll pass. Thanks.