Bracedlets

When I was eight, I loved those black jelly bracelets that everyone seemed to have in the 80s. I didn't wear them up my arm as was the style, a la Madonna in Desperately Seeking Susan: In fact, I only had two, one white, one magenta. (I was never a faddish girl) So one would think that happening upon bracedlets would summon a sense of nostalgia or even a smirk of whimsy. But I have to say, that I was kind of appalled. If I was 13, I'd love it. I'd revel in it. However, at 38, the thought of wearing the power chains that cause me so much pain each month for a fashion statement is akin to wearing studded belts or spike earrings. I get that those things are worn as messages, or in some cases, badges of honor that show exactly how much pain the wearer can and will endure. How much of a badass they are. But these supposedly benign bracedlets are completely misleading. I would much rather wear this:

This was designed by Lorinczi, and I love how it makes this smooth, metal showcase for that perfect toothlike pearl. I mean after all, isn't that what this process is supposed to be about? Not holding on to the painful parts, but finally creating the space for the pearls (or pearly whites) to shine? I think the spotlight might be just left of center...but it should be aligned in the right place in, oh, about six months.