Jewelry

I love costume jewelry. I love real pieces too, but there is just something about costume pieces that make me happy. Even the really cheap ones.

I’ve found, as I’m getting older, I’ve been collecting more pieces. I guess you could say that about anything you collect – the longer you collect the more pieces you have. Maybe I should say, I find myself being a little more picky about what I get, a little more picky about what I keep. 

My mother hated jewelry. I am pretty sure she wore the same pair of earrings for her entire marriage. She wore her engagement ring (which had the diamond replaced a few times, if I am remembering correctly. I certainly remember her tearing through vacuum bags!) and her plain gold wedding bands. She had a few opal rings, and an opal necklace and a necklace with a ‘P’ pendant. I always thought it could also have been a ‘J’.

In a study of contrasts, her mother had a large collection of costume and real pieces. Gram had a matching pair of earrings and necklace for almost any outfit, any occasion. She had bracelets and rings. Beautiful pieces. Gram gave me a few pieces before she died – they’re safely tucked away in my jewelry box. She gave me a tiny elephant charm, and a bracelet to put it on. She gave me a single pearl earring she swore was my mothers and that she kept because it reminded her of her daughter. She gave me a delicate, tiny bracelet that was her mothers. I remember Bubbe Hoffman. She was a tiny thing. That bracelet never would have fit my Gram. It barely fits me. Gram said she was going to give it to mom – it has opals and mom loved her opals. There were a few other, small, miscellaneous pieces. It all fits in a tiny velvet bag.

All of her pieces tell a story. A little bit about her, what she liked, where she’s been. I’m hoping one day, when my daughter sorts through my jewelry, I’ll have amazing stories to tell her about where it came from, or when it was given to me and why. I hope when I die, she’ll remember those stories when she goes through my things.

Morbid? Maybe. But I was just looking at a bracelet Michael recently purchased for me and realized how much I love it right now. And I may not love it next year, and if I had seen it last year I may have passed it right on by as well, but collectively, it makes up everything that is me, and will be me, over my entire life. I don’t keep journals. I have this blog, and I’ve had it for fourteen years now, and I have a PDF backup of those posts, but even that is a very narrow view of me. I’d like to think the photos I take of the kids, of the places we go and the things we do is a better overall picture. But one day, my kids will come across a brass bird bracelet with Wander Lust stamped into it and it will tell them something about their mom. And I think that’s pretty cool.