It’s sort of a “spa day” in hell: a new store in a Chinese mall where women — only women — can go to vent their rage by literally picking up a bat and breaking sh*t. Apparently their frustrations are mainly job[lessness] and economy-related, but of course we can imagine (though perhaps not support) the grand opening of their sister store, Break Your Ex’s Sh*t. I do have some questions, though:

1. Where are the men, going, then? (Naive, probably: I’m guessing that women have fewer societally-sanctioned alternatives for letting all hella loose.)

2. Do we have such places here? According to the comments at Jezebel (h/t for the story), the answer is yes.

3. If you were to open such a place of business, what would you stock it with and why?

From the book description:

Auction catalogs can tell you a lot about a person—their passions and vanities, peccadilloes and aesthetics; their flush years and lean. Think of the collections of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Truman Capote, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.

In Important Artifacts and Personal Property from the Collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion, and Jewelry, Leanne Shapton’s marvelously inventive and invented auction catalog, the 325 lots up for auction are what remain from the relationship between Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris (who aren’t real people, but might as well be). Through photographs of the couple’s personal effects—the usual auction items (jewelry, fine art, and rare furniture) and the seemingly worthless (pajamas, Post-it notes, worn paperbacks)—the story of a failed love affair vividly (and cleverly) emerges. From first meeting to final separation, the progress and rituals of intimacy are revealed through the couple’s accumulated relics and memorabilia. And a love story, in all its tenderness and struggle, emerges from the evidence that has been left behind, laid out for us to appraise and appreciate.

Sold!

Today’s New York Post reports that — given the unhappy marriage of Valentine’s Day and economic downturn — the number of Internet searches for “cheap engagement rings” has gone through the roof. Perhaps would-be knee-benders should also consider recycling?

First we heard about ExBoyfriendJewelry.com. Now we hear, via the Boston Globe, that both online and off, sales of emotionally-tarnished gewgaws have actually created a mini “ex-boyfriend economy” unto itself. Helping fuel the reportedly “unprecedented assault on jewelry boxes and dresser drawers,” apparently, are the currently “record prices for precious metals.”

I have a box, not exactly FULLfull, but containing quite a few once-shiny little items from exes. What better way to underwrite the cost of that strappy little dress I have my eye on! (Then again, those wee baubles from “Roger” will go perfectly with it, so I’ll at least have to hang on to them…)

Via BG’s alter ego at Broadsheet:

What to do with that old engagement ring? You know, after you whip it at your lying, cheating ex-fiancé?

Keepsake? Yeah, right. EBay? So impersonal. Pirates? That’ll only do more damage.

Now, as today’s New York Times reports, there may be a more appealing option: an auction site called ExBoyfriendJewelry.com (tag line: “You don’t want it. He can’t have it back”).

At first glance, I cringed. After all, I consider most public expressions of us vs. him (or her) anti-ex bitterness to be inelegant, tacky, TMI. That said, I will also give a pass to just about anything with real humor and heart. And this site, I must admit (which is not hetero-only), has inspired some gems of poignant free verse.

The description for some Celtic knot earrings: “At some point, he began to take fabulous trips to Ireland. Without me.” For an engagement ring and wedding band: “Hey, Mom and Dad. Remember that time I got married really young?” (Her offer: “I can’t pay you back for the wedding, but I’ll split whatever I get for these with you.”) For an emerald ring, this novella: “It was 1989 on Long Island. Poison and Paula Abdul were battling for the top billboard spots. He was 19, drove a white honda crx and rocked skidz; I smoked marlboro lights and lied about my age of 14. We fell in love over whoppers and the run dmc that pumped out of his ridiculously large speakers. When he bought me this emerald and diamond ring from Sears, it was probably the single best thing that had ever happened to me. I wore it all up and down that high school with pride. But soon enough, it was time to trade my gold for silver as the 80s gave way to the 90s. I got into Nirvana and Ani DiFranco and it was clear that an ocean of Drakkar Noir lay between us.”

And, for some clip-on earrings: “Clip ons. Clip ons!”

There’s also an area of the site for “Gifts That Should Have Been Jewelry.”

I see just one pitfall, really: the perhaps inevitable description reading “I dumped him because he bought my engagement ring used from this site!”