This Seattle-area luxury mall caters to tech moguls and ultra-rich tourists. Here's what it's like to shop there.

The Shops at Bravern's designer-only lineup is housed in palatial storefronts.

I was excited that I could afford the $7 valet parking, even though I don't own a car.

There are three reasons to visit the Bravern: you work at Microsoft, you're rich and looking to burn cash, or both.

If a store directory could give you sticker shock, this one would do it.

I started at Cafe Trophy, which is an upscale cafe selling local Trophy-brand gourmet cupcakes.

The cafe also sold baked goods, local gifts, and bubbly to go with your cupcakes, baked goods, and local gifts.

Cupcakes cost $4.50 or more depending on the flavor.

The cafe also sold macarons for $2.50 a pop. Yes, that is edible silver on those pink macarons.

The cosmic purple ones were named "Milky Way".

These Instagrammable cupcakes, titled "Circus Animals," were ready for their close-up.

When I went into the Hermes store, a representative followed me around to make sure I didn't take pictures. Hermes is a popular target of luxury goods counterfeiters and recently participated in a counterfeiting sting operation against two of its own employees.

Source: The Fashion Law

However, she did tell me that a majority of the store's customers were from mainland China.

The Bravern's flagship store is naturally the luxe department store chain: Neiman Marcus.

Marble floors, glowing ceilings, and local art installations everywhere — Neiman Marcus doesn't have to say "you must be this rich to shop here." It's understood.

Departments are divided by brand, with each designer receiving their own nook and sales representative.

These simple, classy totes caught my eye.

But the price tag said, "Leave, and don't look back."

Filmmaker/fashion designer/superman of the future Tom Ford had his own nook, but I dared not approach.

I was under the impression that Rudolph was the only Valentino designer, but this Garavani guy proved me wrong. After all, luxury items are meant for those "in the know."

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If you have to ask the price, then you can't afford it.

The cosmetics section looked like it had a trapdoor waiting for me in case I dared sneeze.

The largest size of the famous/infamous La Mer face cream was equivalent to the take-home salary of many American workers.

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I thought a tie might be a nice gift to get my favorite fella, especially at an irresistible 70% discount.

But even at 70% off, these ties were still meant for those with more scratch.

There was a home goods section as well, but it was blindingly aspirational.

There was a model dining room on display, and I suddenly wondered if there were real dining rooms out there that looked like this one. Probably quite a few.

There was a painting by a local artist on display and for sale, because if anyone can afford to support local artists, Neiman Marcus shoppers can.

I'd never seen such fabulously flamboyant mannequins before.

I wasn't exactly sure what the store was trying to evoke because I'm not sure I've seen real people in those positions.

Still, I guess it worked, because I was definitely intrigued.

The clothes on this spine-like rack made me go "Ooooh."

But the price tag on the blouse made me go "Awww..."

I shouldn't have been surprised that there was a dedicated fur coat department, even though Seattle isn't the kind of place where the weather ever calls for fur coats.

After one look at the price tag for a fur coat, I decided it was time for me to leave.

As soon as I exited Neiman Marcus, I was confronted with a Microsoft skyscraper — a reminder of how all this wealth first came to town, and where to work if you want to shop at the Bravern.