I recently was in the market for a new keychain (so random, I know). The one I was using, let’s just say, had some bad juju attached to it. So I set fire to it and henceforth needed something new. 

I immediately had my heart set on the fury monsters from Fendi. It’s everything I adore in life: fur and monsters. “I mean it’s a damn keychain … how much could it POSSIBLY be,” I foolishly uttered to myself. 

OVER. SIX. HUNDRED. DOLLARS. For a fucking keychain. A thing that will get disgusting from the mysterious powder and dirt that always weirdly ends up at the bottom of my handbag. That will probably break like all keychains do. That will probably get Advil stuck to it (the bottom of my purse is the cave of wonders). I don’t know if you heard me or not, but OVER SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR A FUCKING KEYCHAIN. 

Okay I’m done. But seriously … over six hundred dollars for a fucking Fendi keychain. Like no. And now I need to go lay down.

After I put my brain back together, I decided to look on one of my favorite websites, Net-a-Porter, to see how much other designer keychains ran. And good news, Fendi isn’t the only luxury brand on crack. 

Burberry= $250

YSL= $275

Anya Hindmarch= $350

I literally spent time … too much time … scouring the interwebs for my beloved new keychain. But anything pretty or worth my time was unfortunately over $100 and made me want to punt my computer. How?! What?! Why do these designers think it is okay to price a tiny little spec of nothing at these astronomical prices?! 

While I resisted the urge to write Fendi a strongly worded note about how their crack abuse was affecting their price points, I stumbled upon the love of my life in keychain form. Skull gloriousness from Alexander McQueen … one of my favorite designers. And compared to some of the shit I was seeing … it was “reasonably” priced at “$115.” See below … isn’t he pretty?!

I negotiated in my brain like a crazy person. “It’s only $115 … and you don’t own anything by Alexander McQueen … and maybe you just won’t go out for a little while … or buy yourself anything … or eat …” 

And then my more logical side kicked my craziness out of my brain with a 4-inch stiletto and said loudly and proudly, “IT’S A FUCKING KEYCHAIN.” And when my crazy wanted be like, “but … but … I love it…” the logical bitch in me said, “No. Go to Rite Aid and buy one that has a Liberty Bell on it for $5 … for fucks sake.”

So I let my logical side take the wheel. But no … I didn’t go to Rite Aid and buy a Philadelphia-themed keychain. I needed something that would hold my keys and make it easy for me to find them in the dark abyss known as my purse, and I needed something that isn’t terrible to look at and won’t break.

Old time-ey key ring! Don’t ask me where this vision came from, but all of a sudden I wanted a big ass brass ring like locksmiths used back in the day to hold my keys (see below). And where does one find obscure shit like that? Urban Outfitters. 

I wasn’t happy about it as I’m not the hugest fan of Urban, but it was $9 on sale and exactly what I was looking for. And guess who never loses her keys now thanks to her big ass brass keychain? THIS GUY. (I would share the link with you, but it looks like they removed it from their site … suckers).

So look, now my keys live on an awesome ring of love, my bank account is still in tact, and I will forever and ever shame designer brands for their price points on fucking keychains. 

*Sorry, Mom, for saying the word “fuck” so much in this post