Unquiet
Things

Many years ago, on this very blog, I wrote about my jewelry collection along with a current (at that time) wish-list of pieces of jewelry I was coveting. That post was dated for sometime in September of 2011, but I can assure you my love of all things shiny began much longer ago than that!

As a child, my imagination was captivated by visions of overflowing treasure chests, a fantasy undoubtedly born from the pages of storybooks and the flickering images on our TV screen. I recall being transfixed by the jewelry in every show and movie, my eyes drawn to the glittering accessories more than the plot or characters. The annual Miss Universe pageant was a particular delight – not for the competition itself, but for that moment when that ridiculously massive diamond(?)-studded tiara was placed upon the winner’s head, a coronation of sparkles that set my heart racing.

My fascination with jewelry and glamorous adornments wasn’t limited to real-world spectacles. The fictional realm provided just as much, if not more, fodder for my glittering dreams.

I was mesmerized by Glinda the Good Witch’s sparkling crown and wand, symbols of her benevolent magic. Princess Leia’s regal jewelry in the awards scene of Star Wars: A New Hope left me starry-eyed, dreaming of far-off galaxies where such elegance was commonplace. When not in her Wonder Woman attire, Diana Prince’s elegant looks captivated me, showing how jewelry could be both powerful and understated. I remember being glued to the TV during Susan Sarandon’s appearance on Masterpiece Theatre, drinking in every detail of her period-appropriate accessories. And who could forget Crystal Dreams Barbie? With her iridescent gown and crystal jewelry, she embodied the pinnacle of 80s glamour in miniature form, fueling my own crystal-centric fantasies.

The Sears catalog became my personal wish book, its pages dog-eared and worn as I revisited the jewelry section time and time again. And oh, the illustrations in my beloved copy of Aladdin! The Cave of Wonders, with its jeweled fruit trees, was a scene I’d lose myself in for hours, imagining the weight of those riches in my small hands. Actually–scratch that. My hands were 16 years old by the time I saw the animated movie, and I was every bit as enthralled ! But so what! Gimme all the sparkles now and forever!

Among my most treasured childhood memories is the ritual of exploring my grandmother’s jewelry box. It was a world unto itself, a miniature treasure trove that held endless fascination for me. The soft creak of its lid as I opened it, revealing tiers of compartments filled with glittering wonders. The musty, balsamic scent of Youth Dew perfume would waft up, an olfactory time capsule that instantly transported me to a realm of grown-up glamour. I’d spend hours trying on her collection of brooches, each one a miniature work of art in costume jewels and gilt metal. Strings of faux pearls would drape around my neck, clinking softly as I moved, while clip-on earrings pinched my earlobes with a delightful discomfort that made me feel impossibly sophisticated. These moments, playing dress-up with decades of collected memories and style, were more than just childhood fancy – they were my first real lessons in the power of jewelry to transform, to tell stories, and to connect generations.

As I grew, my tastes evolved, expanding far beyond the simple allure of sparkle and shine. The egg-shaped diamond rings that once seemed the height of sophistication gave way to more intricate, esoteric designs. I discovered the beauty in the unconventional, the strange, the downright occult – skulls adorned with crowns of thorns, talismanic claws clutching mystical stones, raw crystals seemingly plucked from the heart of some alien world. My collection began to resemble less a traditional jewelry box and more a cabinet of arcane curiosities.

Ouroboros rings coiled around my fingers, whispering secrets of eternity. Pendants bearing alchemical symbols and obscure runes nestled in the hollow of my throat, promising hidden knowledge. Earrings fashioned after rare deep-sea creatures dangled from my lobes, evoking the mysteries of the abyss. Each piece was a far cry from the princely jewels of my childhood fantasies, instead embodying a darker, more enigmatic allure.

Yet, there’s a cyclical nature to our tastes, isn’t there? Sometimes, I find myself longing for the overwrought melodrama of those childhood dreams. I’ll catch myself coveting a tiara so ostentatious it would make a soap opera diva blush, or a statement necklace so bold it could easily upstage its wearer. In these moments, I’m reminded of the little girl who dreamed of treasure chests overflowing with gems the size of a fist.

This pendulum swing between the esoteric and the extravagant, the subtle and the showy, has become a defining characteristic of my relationship with jewelry. It’s as if my collection is engaged in a never-ending masquerade ball, with each piece playing a role in an ever-unfolding drama of personal expression and transformation. More than just adornments, my jewelry has become a form of self-expression, each piece carefully chosen to reflect a facet of my personality or commemorate a moment in time.

After she died, a silver octopus pendant fashioned from a fork was found in my mother’s belongings wrapped for gift-giving. My sisters decided that she must have meant to give it to me as a Christmas gift. A weighty diamante four-leaf clover brooch with pearls at the center sits in my jewelry cabinet. It belonged to my grandmother; it was one of the very pieces from the jewelry box I mentioned above. But I can never seem to find the occasion to wear it.  A goddess smiles enigmatically, carved from the depths of a golden moon. This is a necklace I purchased for myself after I wrote my third book.

The emotional resonance of jewelry continues to surprise me. A simple charm can transport me back in time, while a new acquisition can fill me with a sense of possibility for the future. Each piece in my collection tells a story, whether it’s the tale of where it came from, who gave it to me, or what it represents in my personal journey. As my collection grew, so did my appreciation for the deeper meanings behind each piece. Jewelry, I’ve come to understand, is far more than decoration. It’s a form of symbolic language, a way to communicate beliefs and aspirations, and even to provide protection.

The esoteric symbols that now populate my collection – the all-seeing eyes, the protective hamsa hands, the intricate sacred geometry – each carry a weight of meaning that goes beyond aesthetics. These pieces have become talismans, objects imbued with significance and power. On days when I need an extra boost of courage, I might reach for my arrow necklace, a reminder to stay focused and move forward. When seeking clarity, my labradorite ring becomes a touchstone, its flashes of blue-green light seeming to illuminate my thoughts.

This idea of jewelry as a metaphysical shield has become increasingly important to me. In a world that can often feel chaotic and overwhelming, there’s comfort in adorning oneself with objects that feel like talismanic bulwarks against negative energies. My skull ring, far from being macabre, serves as a memento mori, a reminder to live fully and authentically. The weight of a substantial cuff bracelet can feel grounding, a barrier between myself and the world when I need that extra layer of security. The concept of jewelry as talisman is ancient, spanning cultures and centuries. From Egyptian scarabs to Victorian mourning jewelry, humans have long invested these small, wearable objects with great power. In embracing this tradition, I feel connected to a long line of individuals who have found strength, comfort, and identity in their adornments.

Beyond the visual allure, there’s an intimate, tactile dimension to jewelry that often goes unspoken. The weight of a substantial pendant against my chest, the cool touch of metal warming to my skin, the gentle clinking of bangles on my wrist – these sensations ground me in the present moment, a constant, subtle reminder of adornment and intention. I find myself absently tracing the contours of a ring while deep in thought, the familiar ridges and smooth surfaces becoming a form of tangible meditation. There’s a unique pleasure in the way different materials interact with the senses: the soft, warm glow of amber, the cool, liquid feel of pearls, the sharp facets of a cut crystal. Even the act of putting on jewelry becomes a ritual, a moment of mindfulness as I fasten a clasp or slip a ring onto my finger. Yet, for all this weighty symbolism, there remains in me that child who simply delighted in beautiful things. The enduring allure of “treasures” persists, speaking to something fundamental in human nature. We are drawn to that which glitters and shines, to objects that seem to capture light and transform it into something magical.

My passion for jewelry has profoundly influenced how I perceive the world, infusing everyday experiences with an unexpected sparkle. I’ve come to see the jewel-like qualities in nature and everyday objects, finding gems where others might see mere produce. The glossy, deep purple skin of an eggplant reminds me of polished amethyst, its curves mimicking the smooth cabochons in my favorite rings. Strawberries, with their vibrant red hue and seed-studded surface, evoke images of intricately worked rubies. This jewelry-tinted lens extends beyond the visual realm, coloring my other senses in surprising ways. In the world of perfumery, I often find myself describing scents in gemstone terms – this fragrance smells “amethystine,” with deep, purple notes of lavender and wine; that one has an “emerald” quality, fresh and verdant like newly unfurled leaves.

As I look at my collection now, arranged on my dresser top at eye level, heaped and draped in dishes and trays, and tucked away into several ornate little boxes, I’m struck by how it embodies both change and constancy. The specific pieces may be different from what I once dreamed of, but the joy they bring – that feeling of wonder and delight – remains unchanged from when I first pored over those catalog pages.

In many ways, my jewelry collection has become my own personal Cave of Wonders. Each piece, whether a finely crafted artisanal item or a quirky flea market find, is a treasure in its own right. They are artifacts of my journey, markers of my growth, and yes, still objects of beauty that make my heart sing just as they did when I was young. My love for jewelry has been a constant companion, evolving as I have, reflecting my growth and changing perspectives. From the imaginary treasure chests of my childhood to the carefully curated collection of my adulthood, it’s been a journey marked by sparkle, significance, and self-discovery.

As I alluded to in a post last week, as I reflect on this lifelong fascination, I realize that my relationship with jewelry is just one of many threads that have woven the tapestry of who I am today. After two decades of blogging, I find myself drawn to exploring these origin stories – the experiences, passions, and influences that have shaped me.

In the grand scheme of things, I may be less than a nobody. Yet, I can’t help but envision a future where someone stumbles upon an old perfume review I’ve written or finds one of my books in a dusty corner of a used bookstore and thinks, “Hey, this person seems really interesting. I wonder what they were like?” It’s a small hope, perhaps, but isn’t that a fundamentally human desire? To leave behind some essence of ourselves, some breadcrumbs for future curious souls to follow?

Who doesn’t like to tell the story of who they are? Who doesn’t, in some small way, want to be known and understood? These origin stories – of my love for jewelry, my fascination with scent, my adventures in cooking and art – they’re my way of saying “This is who I am. This is what shaped me.”

It eventually shaped me into a ghoul who loves jewels (which, in my imagination, looks a bit like the imagery of Maria Germanova below!) Read more on my fascination with her here and here and here!

So, dear future reader (if you exist), consider this the beginning of a trail. In the coming weeks and months, I’ll be delving into other formative fascinations and pivotal moments in my life. From my early encounters with scary terrors to my first sprays of perfume, from a childhood love of all things “flowerdy” to adult adventures in cooking – each of these stories has contributed to the person I’ve become and the way I see the world. I invite you – whether you’re reading this hot off the press or years down the line – to join me on this journey of reflection and rediscovery in unearthing these defining experiences and their resulting passions.  And I hope you’ll share yours as well along the way!