Posts Tagged ‘Bling’
Gay’s Jewelry
You know how J Lo, Lil’ Wayne, Puff Daddy, and all those other celebs are constantly rapping about the Bling Bling? They wear it, they sing about it, they don’t seem to be able to live without it.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah.
My grandmother Gay invented bling.
Gay was an impressive figure. I was too young when she died to remember much beyond her red lipstick, fiery red hair, giant bosom and loud Texan accented voice. But she was fiercely loved by her two sons, and admired widely as a gifted businesswoman and friend. Plus she was first woman EVER to pass the Texas Bar exam.
Gay was the definition of fierce.
[BTW, totally sucks that her name, Gay, which in her day meant “happy, lively, and charming,” now pretty much just means ‘homosexual.’ I guess we’ll just have to file it alongside the Butches and the Dicks of the world, poor things...]
Anyway, Gay passed away when I was six, but her legend lives on, especially in the form of endless amounts of awesome costume jewelry. As a kid, my favorites were the rings that opened up to reveal secret hidden compartments (no, all you club-kid readers, for PERFUME, not drugs!), but there were many more too-cool-to-believe jewelry pieces, like charm bracelets with gigantic charms including a mini Torah scroll, rings that easily covered the entire lower half of a finger, heavy necklaces, cameos of all shapes, colors, materials and sizes, and watches galore, from fancy diamond and gold ones to tiny charm and locket watches.
Devastatingly, all Gay’s jewelry that I inherited – costume and real (all except one ring I had with me at the time) was stolen back when we had the break-in. (PS – THANKS, cousin Stacy, for my recent Gay costume jewelry infusion!) A big lump forms in my stomach when I think about all those incredible pieces I had from her which are now gone.
But memories can never be stolen, and I treasure mine – of Gay, and yes, of her larger-than-life jewelry.
Though I must admit, I’m not upset that I never got to see the pin Gay brought back from Mexico one year –the pin had a chain attached to a large jewel which was stuck to the back of a LIVE BEETLE. Which crawled around on her shoulder as she wore it.
Hey J Lo – I’d like to see you wear THAT to your next MTV Awards ceremony!
c/xo,
Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)
J Lo, meet Gay-Lo!
Wanna know where I got it?
I’m a leo. And a (Grownup) girl. In other words, it’s not my fault that I love jewelry & diamonds and bling.
It’s in my DNA!
It doesn’t have to be expensive. I love fake bling too, especially the stuff that looks real. One of my happiest moments was when my friend, the world-famous jeweler Neil Lane, asked me if my giant “diamond” studs were real.
Actually, they were Mazza Gallery Cubic Zirconiums.
But just because I know they are fakes, doesn’t mean the whole world has to know. And yet my subconscious brain – the part that says stuff without my permission – doesn’t seem to understand that concept.
I mean, why did I have to admit to Neil that they were fakes?
And while we’re at it, why is it that, whenever someone compliments me on my dress, like Rain Man, I am compelled to blurt out, “Got the dress at Ross. Got the dress at Ross. Twenty-five dollars. Dress at Ross. Shoes, too. Twenty-five dollars. Shoes at Ross.”
Why can’t I keep myself cloaked in mystery? I admire those women who sashay through the room draped in High Fashion and unattainable-looking styles. Maybe the whole ensemble came from TJ Maxx, but they’ll never tell. (Unless you’re that fashion blogger who does the TJ Maxx TV ads. Sellout.)
Same thing goes for expensive items that I have… that were gifts.
Wow, incredible necklace!” someone inevitably remarks every time I wear this beautiful 3 ring diamond pendant I have.
Like clockwork, I immediately tell the admirer it was a gift from my mom, and lest they think my mother goes around spoiling me with diamond baubles (I WISH!), I add that it was a gift for me when I had my first child, and the three rings signify me, my husband and our newborn son.
Pre-burglary, I used to wear a giant 2-carat diamond engagement ring. Which, if you were a passer-by, you would assume my husband bought for me (by selling his body on the street? I mean, come on, he does well as a general contractor, but we like to eat, too…) But all you’d have to do is compliment me on the ring, and you’d know soon enough that it was an heirloom – my mother’s grandmother’s engagement ring.
I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. And my jewelry in a safe when I’m not wearing it.
Here’s to living & learning! (& to wearing lots of sparkly things while I’m doing both…)
c/xo,
Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)
Love my new fur vest? It was a steal! Literally. From my little sister. Shoot, I blabbed again!