Something that has fascinated me for awhile is how merchants choose to display or sell their goods. Talking about a recent trip to Melaka, I was wondering why our shops always have to look chock-a-full of stuff. When in our history did it happen that our shops need to be full of things? Was it meant to convey a successful business? Wouldn’t it have just shown many things remained unsold? Was there a point in the psyche of selling and buying where we realised no one would ever walk into an empty shop?

Pick a shopping district in your town or city, and you’ll see what I mean. This need to fill a shop means we had to get the goods from somewhere, the cheaper the better, for a fatter profit margin. But rather than waxing about economics, I’m probably much better placed to talk about craft, or maybe just about jewellery.

In my travels, it has become obvious to me there’s no longer such a thing as “ethnic jewellery”. If you’re looking for something locally handmade, firstly, be prepared to be lied to about the origin of what’s in the shop, Secondly, expect to only be able to find things similar to what you’ve already seen elsewhere. Most jewellery on the market seem to come from around Tibet, India, Pakistan, China and South America, and on rare occasions, Eastern Europe. Note that this doesn’t necessarily dictate the quality of what you can buy — I’ve seen stuff that has obviously been made cheaply, but also very high quality work. Looking carefully though, it’s not easy to tell the origin of the piece by its design. What then, is authentic, if “authentic” local handmade craft is apparently imported? Is tourism to be blamed for the market for “authentic” souvenirs to bring home?

The real consequence in this is not just whether we find value in authentic experience or not, but in our bid to seem authentic but commercially competitive, we have sacrificed regional identities and uniqueness through giving in to cheaper production costs of goods.