TRX The Exchange

Kuala Lumpur, a city of contrasts; a city where icons of luxury emerge amidst the struggling working class eking out a living with a meagre salary, living a mundane existence. Unfortunately for me, as I am not bequeathed with the riches enjoyed by the top 1%, the aspiration to fully immerse myself in the offerings of TRX mall remains somewhat elusive.

As I enter TRX mall through the parking entrance, I cannot help but notice the mall’s trimmings such as the handrails, wall panels, and the decorative artefacts, flushed in gold. The long passageways are occupied with stores, side-by-side, of some famous brands that have a strong presence in Malaysia, and other more luxurious stores beyond the conception of the typical Malaysian. My first reaction when I enter TRX is of course, one of being impressed. But there is a notion niggling in my head, “Are there that many rich people in Malaysia?”

The mall’s highlight is the Japanese luxury store, Seibu. As I scroll through my TikTok’s FYP,  it is apparent that influencers cannot stop raving about the RM40 sandwich from Seibu, or that RM700 mengkuang look-alike bag, that can be bought for a mere RM20 outside. What’s so special about the sandwich or the handbag befuddles me; this is indeed a place where vanity seems to trump any common sense about money.

As I skip along the corridors of Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Chaumet, Tiffany & Co, I am left breathless at the sight of beautiful items and my niggling desire to own something from these stores. I check my bank account, and heave a long sigh at the paltry balance sum. I continue to walk along the passageways, admiring the shiny marble floors that reflect the silhouettes of those walking along it, bewitched by the parade of pomp and opulence.

But not all is lost for us penny pinching commoners. There are puddles of hope for us to at least be able to play the part of a rich aristocrat, even for a while, by being seen in outlets such as Café Kitsune and Venchi Gelato. Do enter these hotspots in style, and don’t forget to dress the part in bold and, if possible, flashy monograms. Then snap a photo of you bedecked in clothing or handbags stamped with the alphabets GG, LV or CC and post it on Instagram.

There is a long queue outside Venchi Gelato, but I soldier on in my quest to taste the left-overs of the unattainable luxury of TRX. I’m finally inside the shop and to my surprise, one mini-scoop of Gelato costs me RM33! I try not to look surprised, and casually pay for the Hazelnut ice-cream, which is ornamented with a cute chocolate coin that bears the name Venchi. For a little while, I feel as though I am in Venice, enjoying Italian ice-cream before heading for a gondola ride.

While pretending to be something I’m not, I breezily explore the alleys of the luxury floor’s main pathway. There, I discover little gems selling one thing that I don’t mind splurging on – perfumes. It does seem that Malaysians have reached a certain level of affluence to be able to tell apart the different notes of cinnamon, wood, rose, jasmine, musk, ylang-ylang, oud, and to appreciate the subtleties of an expensive perfume. It is heaven for perfume lovers like me to stumble upon shops that carry relatively rare brands such as Penhaligan, Acqua Di Panna, Guerlian, Tom Ford, and the perfume house, Essentials.

After a tiring day of walking around and carrying a load of broken aspirations, it’s time to head home. After two hours, I have only managed to scour the Luxury Floor. Perhaps, if I have had more time, I would find shops that can  cater to my mere means. I feel like an outsider in the lavish world envisioned by TRX, a projection of the rising prosperity of Malaysians. Upon arriving home, I find myself staring at the four walls of my room as I am reminded of my ordinary existence, with yet another day passing by when I don’t win the lottery.