I'm writing this not to attack, but instead in the hopes that it prompts some real self reflection…read morebecause buying jewelry should feel special, not diminishing.This was meant to be my first jewelry show, a beautiful memory marking my newfound love for antique jewelry. I had been giddy for days leading up to it, the kind of excitement that feels rare and precious in an adult life so often consumed by work. Now my memory of my first jewelry show brings up feelings of disappointment and sadness.
I approached the PMI booth at the International Gem and Jewelry Show with excitement, ready to explore and invest in a meaningful piece. Like many careful buyers, I like to take my time, trying things on, comparing options before I make my final decision, especially when it comes to high value items like jewelry. I ask consent before taking photos so I can keep track of what pieces I like and what booth I found them at.
I asked to see three rings, the older blonde woman (pictured) assisting me did not just come across as disinterested, she seemed irritated that she had to help me at all. Her tone was cold, her demeanor tense, and every interaction felt rushed, like I was an inconvenience she wanted to be rid of as quickly as possible. I initially tried to brush it off as her personality, but what made it impossible to ignore was what happened next.
At the other end of the table, an older white woman was already being helped by an older gentleman. Instead of continuing to assist me, the woman helping me chose to join them, effectively abandoning our interaction. She stood there with them, smiling, engaged, and attentive, without so much as a glance back in my direction. I was left waiting, unacknowledged, until I eventually had to call out to her to get her attention again. And it wasn't just that one moment, or just one customer. As I stood there, I noticed she was kind to another older white lady before I asked her to help me. With them, she was warm, patient, and welcoming. With me, she was curt, tense, and visibly irritated. The contrast in treatment was not subtle. It was unmistakable.
For context, I am 32 years old, but I have been told that I look young for my age. Whether her behavior was influenced by my age, my Asian ethnicity, or the fact that she assumed I could not afford their pieces, I cannot say with certainty, but the consistent disparity in how I was treated compared to the older white women around me was impossible to ignore.
When I finally said I would be back after making my rounds, she took the rings from me and responded with a flat, dismissive "okay," not even looking at me as she said it. It felt less like the end of a customer interaction and more like a relief to her that I was leaving. I walked away feeling overlooked, disrespected, and devalued.I was saddened not just by the interaction, but by the fact that now my beautiful memory, the event I was so excited for, was soured.
Thankfully, the women at Serendipity Baubles, Trinkets, and Treasures at Booth 421 completely turned my day around. They were warm, kind, and treated me with genuine respect. I gladly spent over a thousand dollars with them. Funny how a little kindness and basic human respect can go such a long way.
I had genuinely liked one of your pieces (pictured) and fully intended to come back for it. But after the way I was treated, I chose not to support a business where I was made to feel like I didn't belong or worse, like I was a burden.
I know a thousand dollars isn't much for your business, but this is not just about a missed sale. It is about how quickly visible irritation and unequal treatment can turn what should be a joyful experience into something disheartening and lasting.
I hope this is taken seriously, because no one should walk away from your booth feeling the way I did. I am not upset about the jewelry I didn't get to buy. I was upset about the beautiful memory I could've had.
