Stripped: A Vegas Story

I’m a month late to the blogparty, but it’s high time I add my notes to the collection of tales from Jewelry Week 2018.

While this tradeshow extravaganza always moves at a fast clip, this year felt especially rapid thanks to working the show with a new company in a role that magically combines some of my previous jobs into one. I’ve been a buyer and an exhibitor, but this time I got to be BOTH! At the same time! The whole time, all day! IN HEELS!

While the show itself was an overall business success for some, many attendees felt a distinct air of uncertainty: attendance was down, selling and buying were up but not enough, and what the hell is going to happen next year when the whole thing picks up stakes and high-tails it back to the Sands?!

In addition to the 15-hour work days trekking the carpeted miles in my stilettos, I was also privileged to attend some wonderful events. The Jewelers for Children Rings of Strength 5K was a sweaty success as usual, the evening bowling/dance party we’ve come to hate enjoy wasn’t half bad, and sandwiched in between were some lovely off-strip dinners with handsome accompaniment.

My favorite industry event by far was an evening sitting among some of the best, brightest, and most influential women I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. From store owners and designers to lawyers and writers, the mix was better than my margarita. I’m grateful for the opportunity to meet these women (and if only we’d had more time!) in the beautiful setting of the Four Seasons patio, and my only wish is to learn from their collective vast experience and array of talents (okay, and to get published alongside them in living print!).

This was a strange and beautiful desert trip, complete with Hassidic families walking on one side of the pool while groups of BDSM-styled adults capered toward their 3AM sex party,** a delightful secret find just outside Old Vegas complete with fire-breathing sculpture and frose, and some interesting games of LRC played on an improvised patio with borrowed dollar bills. I’ll leave that last one up to your imagination.

 

**Yes, our hotel hosted a 2-night sex party for the local chapter of an adult organization, complete with high-decibal DJ ’til 3AM and what appeared to be inflated plastic igloos that glowed. I’m still a little sad we never made it inside.

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