Until recently, I never thought being a bit limited in the ownership of fine jewelry was an especially big problem. In fact, I felt quite ambivalent about the issue as I listened in fascination to friends who found nirvana in a pair of sapphire earrings, and I wondered if there might be something wrong with me. I mean – aren’t women supposed to be wild about jewelry?
My apathetic attitude is my mother’s fault. Yes, I know it’s easy to blame a woman who isn’t around to defend herself, but Mom’s idea of accessorizing an outfit was to buy some really great shoes. My mother was the Imelda Marcos of the June Cleaver set. No tidy strand of pearls for her, thank you very much. The closest she ever got to pearls were her famous purple pop beads, circa 1957.
So this unfortunate jewelry deficiency finally came home to roost the other day when Daughter Number Two disclosed that she still needed to complete the “something old” and “something borrowed” portion of her wedding ensemble. I pointed out that counting her father and me, who will accompany her down the aisle, as the “something old” part was cheating. That being said, she asked to borrow a vintage brooch that had belonged to either me or my mother so she could pin it to her bouquet.
It was such a lovely idea; the operative word being “idea.” My last born gliding down the aisle with a beautiful brooch pinned to her bridal bouquet that had special meaning to our family – an heirloom passed down through the years. One generation to the next. Yadda, yadda, yadda. So you can’t blame me for hedging a little when she asked if she could borrow something pretty that had been in our family for a long time.
“Ahhhh…I’ll check that and get back to you,” I responded vaguely. “I’m sure I have something that would be just, um….lovely.”
Immediately there ensued a search of our house that made the quest for the Holy Grail look like an Easter egg hunt. Surely I had something grand that would carry the old tradition forward in style. I ransacked jewelry boxes, closets, and drawers, gathering up every piece of jewelry I could find.
What resulted was a trip down memory lane that seemed more of a cultural archeological dig than an examination of precious baubles. My gold circle pin from high school. Oh, please, you must remember circle pins! Any girl who didn’t own a circle pin to wear on her sweater might just as well have thrown herself in front of a bulldozer because she was certainly dead in the social world as it pertained to high school fashion in 1960s-era America.
My peace sign pendant would certainly add a whimsical touch to the bridal bouquet. Mood ring? Pretty cool once-upon-a-time, but that was out. Lots of old pairs of large, clunky earrings that I had no business wearing unless I was seven feet tall, which – believe me – I am not. And my pin indicating membership in the National Association of Realtors? Hmmmm…not so much. Then there was the “I Gave Blood” button from the time I donated a pint and promptly passed out. Not too appropriate on a bridal bouquet, but it certainly carried a lot of sentiment, which is probably better forgotten now that I mention it. I mean – who needs 20 co-workers standing around your gurney laughing their heads off because you’re not crazy about the sight of your own blood?
Rummaging through my jewelry findings revealed that things were pretty bleak in the brooch department. There was nothing to do but call the bride-to-be and relay the results. Since I didn’t want to alarm her about the grim news, I attempted to sound casual.
“Ahem. Well, I did find two of my mother’s pins. Both of them are pretty old.”
“Great,” she enthused, “What do they look like?”
“Well, one is a tomato and the other a buffalo. Grandma sure liked nature, hahaha! And they are old,” I repeated hopefully. I probably don’t need to describe the deafening silence that followed. “So, do you think either of those might work?” I asked in my most chipper ‘Mom’ voice. “Maybe we could go for, um…’most original bouquet.’ ”
I give the girl a lot of credit for not hanging up on me then and there. Instead, she offered up a decision.
“Well, it needs to be old and it needs to be borrowed. We could go shopping for an antique brooch for you that I could borrow to pin on my bouquet, except that wouldn’t be very sentimental. So how about your circle pin? It’s meaningful to you, and the gold circle sort of represents a wedding ring and never-ending love. Plus it is reeeeeeally old,” she added.
Maybe being a little jewelry-challenged isn’t such a bad thing after all. One thing is for sure: I’ll be a sobbing mess on my daughter’s wedding day. She’s already pushing all the right buttons.
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