Jewelry has the power to be the one little thing that makes you feel unique.
Elizabeth Taylor
Travel back with me through the mists of time for an age-honored ceremony that marked me for life. You see I think when they slapped that baby ID bracelet (which I still have with its little pink and blue beads—yep, I am that old) on my tiny wrist I was branded as a jewelry fiend. There is a hint that there is some Cherokee DNA in our family (I so wish I could track this down, would love it), so my urge could come from a tribal yearning to adorn myself and identify my personality/my clan by the very things I wear.
I kept with this habit, however, all by myself, needing no further help once I left the hospital. I was always begging for coins to try for one of those rings in the plastic bubble inside a machine that one could find on any street corner. I loved to open my mother’s jewelry box—which later morphed into a trunk—and style and profile once I got on all her regalia. I was very careful as this was the stuff that made life worth living. One must care for pieces of jewelry as if they were relics long sought after by those on a holy quest--something akin to Arthur’s sword or the gems of King Solomon’s mines.
Pearls are always appropriate.
Jackie Kennedy
Do not misunderstand—this was something handed down for generations but it was merely costume jewelry. Our beads could be found at any department store—interesting and with flair, but not very costly. That only made it all the more alluring. A trinket seemed to call for me when I walked down the jewelry aisle because it was in my little girl mind “cheap”—a word you heard often at our house. So I might be able to accrue my own trunk of treasures.
There are rituals that go along with the collection of one’s baubles, bangles and beads. It is incumbent upon the female members of the family to periodically gather around the jewelry container and sift through the plunder. One must recall the details of who gave it, or who handed it down, where it was worn and all the attendant memories one made while wearing the jewelry.
There were always a few special pieces associated with family lore--grandmother’s pearls or a grandfather’s stick pin. Those generated discussions of just what our loot might be worth on today’s market—probably bupkis, but fascinating nonetheless. This goes on for generations I can assure you. I did it with my mother, my daughter and I would have “ooh-ing and aah-ing sessions, and now my granddaughter has somewhat succumbed to the lure of trinkets and baubles.
You never really know a woman until you've seen her jewelry.
Anonymous
Now I like to coordinate and match things up. I was never one to just throw on any old pin or bracelet. It all had to coordinate with my outfit. There’s a family joke that if they ever have to identify my body that they will know for sure it is not me if the beads do not match (or coordinate with the color scheme) of my clothes and other jewelry accoutrement.
Jewelry takes people’s mind off your wrinkles.
Sonja Henie
Yes, jewelry -- it is somewhat like a disease or perhaps a genetic predisposition, but I do love it so. Just this past weekend I wore a pin and earring set that belonged to my mother. I thought of her all day. She was that feisty woman who made it through World War II, who nursed me through Polio, loved her family, who was funny and tough enough for this life. She taught me how to walk and speak, how to cook, and how to love family like she did. She was and is still my heroine. As I pinned the pin on my sweater coat and donned the earrings I thought of how the very same things had been worn by her as she dressed to meet the world. I guess I hoped the magic of the jewelry would make me a tad more like her--and it did.
Not a bad return for just a hunk of costume jewelry.