It’s Sunday 1 PM. I’m sitting with a lunch bag that I just picked up at Itsu in Angel in the back office of the shop.It’s one of the lunches I have when I really had a good day start, which means morning run done and being full of energy and optimism. Usually, I don’t work on Sundays, but I wanted to do some extra days to learn a bit about the retail side of the fashion biz and challenge the seller in me. Selling and looking after clients was always fun. I liked it, even during my time as a makeup artist at The Body Shop in Vienna.
Lucky day for me, I got the chance to wear some jewellery from the designer (when people see it how you wear it, they might buy it). I took off my wedding ring. This wasn’t the first time and it was kind of routine to me. Working for a jewellery PR asks for some nice Instagram pics then and now, but I’ve always been careful when taking off my ring. So it wasn’t a big deal and safe in my pocket.
I finished my super healthy low-carb lunch and got up to make my way back to the till again. ‘Clink Clink Clink’, and I heard something dropped on the wooden flooring. I quickly reached into my pocket: My wedding ring wasn’t there. My face turned pale and I knew I fucked up really big this time.
After spending about two hours on my fours, with my iPhone torch in one hand and a steel wire in the other I kept searching. I couldn’t find it and I knew it must have fallen between the floor boards. I went home talked to my husband, who first thought I made a joke. It was one week until our 2nd wedding anniversary and I was such a fool to loose it. After hours of talk, MacGyver solution, He came up with an ingenious idea. We decided to go back to the shop again after we both finished work, in the hope to open one of the floor boards if the designer would let us do that. Embarrassed because of the whole situation, I went there with all my proud left and got back on all fours on the floor again – in front of the designer, clients and goldsmiths. It couldn’t have been worse, but we knew we would do anything to get the ring back.
After one-floor board out we started checking everything again. Nothing besides a long brick wall in the middle. It could have rolled anywhere, which means the only way to get it would be by opening up the whole damn floor boards. We both knew that was something we couldn’t ask so we gave up.
In The End, It’s Just A Ring
Although a wedding ring has a very important meaning, I don’t feel anything has changed between me and K. I mean literally nothing at all. We’ve been to a lot of shit this year, we moved, our lives got turned upside down and I had to learn to be a student again. What I’m saying is that life wasn’t as rosy as it seemed all the time.
I heard many people saying, “This is a bad omen and a sign for divorce” or “How can you even sleep well? Aren’t you worried?”. I honestly don’t believe in that kind of stuff and you shouldn’t either. Yes, the ring meant a lot to me and I remember we put a lot of thought into choosing that one little tiny ring that I was supposed to wear for the “rest of my life”. But it’s gone for now. I’ve written this post today not because I wanted to share with you a super bad experience, but also that a lost ring is still a ring in the end. So what now? We are going to order a duplicate and although I know it won’t be here on time for our wedding anniversary, it’s still going to be a special day for us. Whether or not I’m having a ring on my finger; hey we made it for two years! and there are more to come.