I Thought I Was Shopping at Dior. I Was Really Looking for Baby Lux.

Before We Continue…

So much has happened since my last blog post.

Almost every day for the past two months, I’ve thought about sitting down to write the next chapter of this series. I knew exactly what came next. Dior. Then Hermés. Then the unboxing posts. Then eventually the story of going back to Tiffany and Dior for a second time.

But life happened.

Not in a bad way. Just… life.

I’ve been slowly settling into a different rhythm these past couple of months. Quieter mornings. More walks along the beach. More time tending my little herb garden. More time with Hanz and Tuz. Less rushing. Less chasing. More noticing. This slower rhythm feels strangely familiar, as though I’ve finally found the life I’ve been trying to build all along.

And somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t becoming someone new. I was simply returning to someone I’d always been.

For years, I believed that the way to build a good life was to work harder, earn more, achieve more. That season gave me so much, and I’m grateful for it. But these days, I’m finding just as much joy harvesting herbs from the garden, making nourishing drinks in my own kitchen, watching the sunrise, or spending an afternoon with the people I love… basically living a slow kind of life.

Ironically, slowing down has also brought me back to something else I’ve missed for a long time…. writing. More so, blogging.

So before I begin sharing this renewed season of my life, I want to finish telling this one.

Many of you have been following this unexpected journey that started with a Mother’s Day blog post. On the surface, it might look like a series about Tiffany, Louis Vuitton, Dior, and Hermès.

But if you’ve been here from the beginning, you already know it was never really about luxury.

It was about love.

It was about grief.

It was about Baby Lux.

These pieces became symbols of a daughter we never got to meet but will always love. They became tangible reminders that love doesn’t disappear just because someone is no longer physically here.

So today, I’m picking up right where I left off.

This is the continuation of a story I wasn’t quite ready to finish two months ago.

This is the continuation of my luxury experience last Mother’s Day…

But before we go any further, I want you to see what the day actually looked like. I put together a short video of our very first Dior boutique experience… from the warm welcome and the champagne to the chocolates, the laughter, and the moment we finally found the ring.

If you watch only the video, you’ll probably think this was simply a story about a family enjoying a beautiful afternoon at Dior. And you’d be right. But only partly. Because what you can’t see in the video is everything that was happening inside me. That’s the story I want to tell you here…

But first, here’s the video:

So, by the time we walked into Dior, it was already our third luxury boutique of the day.

First was Tiffany & Co.

Then Louis Vuitton.

Then Dior.

If you had told the younger version of me that one day I would casually write a sentence like that, I probably would have laughed! Or cried… Or both! OMG!! OMGGG!!! Because luxury boutiques used to feel like places that belonged to other people. Not people like me. Not a girl who grew up on scholarships. Not a girl who spent years worrying about bills. Not a mother who became the breadwinner. Not someone who still sometimes feels surprised that she can afford the things she once only admired from afar. Even after Tiffany… Even after Louis Vuitton… I still felt a tiny bit of nervousness walking into Dior. Maybe not as much as before. But enough.

The funny thing about imposter syndrome is that it doesn’t always disappear just because your circumstances change. Sometimes your bank account changes long before your identity does. So there we were: Me. Hanz. Tuz. Walking into Dior. And within minutes, I felt myself relax. The staff were warm. The atmosphere was welcoming. We were offered champagne. Chocolates. Cookies. We sat on the sofa. We laughed. We wandered around the boutique looking at everything. And I mean everything — The perfumes. The shoes. The sandals. The clothes. The bags. The accessories.

I wasn’t really shopping. At least that’s what I thought. Because in my mind, I was only looking for a small souvenir. A tiny memento. Something simple. Something symbolic. Something connected to Baby Lux.

For those who may not know, Baby Lux was the baby we lost earlier this year. Her full name was going to be Chanel Tiffany Dior. There was no Chanel boutique that day. But there was Tiffany. And there was Dior.

When I bought my Tiffany piece earlier that afternoon, it immediately felt right. Not because of the price. Not because it was luxury. Because it carried Tiffany’s name. One-third of Baby Lux’s name. Now I was looking for the Dior piece. Something small. Maybe a trinket. Maybe an accessory. Maybe a perfume. Something modest. At least that was the plan. But grief has a funny way of ignoring plans. And budgets. So, I kept looking. And looking. And looking…

Nothing felt right. Everything was beautiful. Nothing was Baby Lux. Until they showed me a ring — an 18-karat gold ring with a diamond. A natural diamond that looks exactly the same as the one in my Tiffany necklace.

The moment I saw it, something inside me became quiet. You know that feeling when you stop searching? Not because you’ve looked everywhere. But because you’ve found it. That was the feeling. Suddenly, I wasn’t looking at jewelry anymore. I was looking at Dior. I was looking at Baby Lux. I was looking at a future that never happened. And somehow, a love that still exists anyway.

I remember thinking how perfectly the ring paired with the Tiffany necklace. One carried Tiffany’s name. The other carried Dior’s. Two pieces. Two names. Two reminders. Now all that’s missing is Chanel. Which, knowing me, probably means one day I’ll find myself wandering into a Chanel boutique telling myself I’m only looking for something small. We all know how that story ends. LOL!

The ring cost ₱125,000. Far more than I originally intended to spend. But here’s something I’ve learned this year: When you’re grieving, you’re not always buying the object. You’re buying what it means. The necklace isn’t really a necklace. The ring isn’t really a ring. They’re symbols. Anchors. Physical reminders of a love that has nowhere else to go.

People often talk about grief as letting go. That has never felt completely true to me. I don’t think grief is about letting go. I think it’s about learning how to continue loving. How to carry someone forward. How to make space for them in a life they never got to live.

That day at Dior, I thought I was shopping. I thought I was celebrating. I thought I was enjoying a luxury experience. And I was. But looking back, I think I was doing something else, too. I was collecting pieces of Baby Lux. And for a few hours, surrounded by champagne, chocolates, beautiful things, my husband, and my son, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a while. Not happiness. Not sadness. Something gentler. Something quieter. Something closer to peace.

That afternoon didn’t end when we walked out of Dior. It came home with me.

Over the next few days, those little blue, orange, and brown boxes would each be opened, one by one. And as I unwrapped what was inside them, I realized I wasn’t simply unboxing jewelry or leather goods. I was unboxing memories, gratitude, love, grief, and pieces of a story I wasn’t quite ready to let go of.

Those are the stories I want to tell next.

After that, perhaps we’ll turn the page together.

Because life has been quietly unfolding in beautiful ways since then. I’ve been slowing down, planting herbs, walking by the sea, rediscovering old parts of myself, and embracing a season that feels very different from the one you’ve just read about.

But before we get there, allow me to linger here just a little longer.

If you’re just joining me…

Although each post can be read on its own, this story really began long before I walked into Dior.

If you’d like to start from the beginning, here are the chapters that came before this one:

Chapter 1: I Thought I Wanted Luxury. What I Really Wanted Was Safety.
How grief, Mother’s Day, and Baby Lux unexpectedly changed the meaning of luxury for me.

Chapter 2: My Very First Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
The morning I stepped into Tiffany & Co. for the very first time—and why it meant so much more than breakfast.

Chapter 3: Why I Cried When My Husband Bought Me a Louis Vuitton Bag.
A story about love, receiving, and why a handbag became far more than just a handbag.

Chapter 4: I Thought I Was Shopping at Dior. I Was Really Looking for Baby Lux. (You’re here.)

The journey continues…

The story isn’t over yet.

There are still a few boxes waiting to tell their stories.

In the next chapters, I’ll share our unexpected stop at Hermès, followed by the unboxing of each piece that came home with us from that unforgettable Mother’s Day weekend.

And when those stories have all been told, I’ll finally be ready to write about the beautiful new season of life that’s quietly unfolding now… a slower, gentler season filled with beach walks, herb gardens, healing, family, creativity, and learning to be fully present.

For now, though…

Thank you for staying with me.