It is a truth universally acknowledged that a large showy diamond ring must be in want of a feminine finger. It is a less acknowledged truth, however, that the owner of these fingers would much rather spend money on travel than on a piece of shiny jewellery.
Tane and I went ring shopping for our Civil Union the other day with high hopes and a low budget. We walked into one shop, and walked straight out again. The number of zeros on the little signs under the rings had scared us away. We went to a couple of other shops where we were shown lots of beautiful pieces of jewellery. A green ring that could have passed for costume jewellery. Stones so sharp they could double as a secret weapon and take your nemeses eyes’ out. Intricate designs that look like they must have been made by an army of elves - and all well outside our price range.
Each time, it took me a little while to say to the over eager assistant “that’s lovely, but do you have anything simpler?” The shop assistant would often look at me like I had two heads, blink a few times, and motion to a corner of the cabinet where the ‘simpler’ rings lived. Unadorned, unpretentious rings, hidden by ostentatious bling and elegant diamonds. I admired these simpler rings, all the while feeling that I had somehow betrayed the sisterhood by wanting a non-blingy ring. I wonder if, as a girl who doesn’t really care about bling, I am in a real minority?
The way I see it, I am getting a Civil Union because of the regular corny and clichéd reasons. Not because I want a shiny ring. Having said that though, I am absolutely stoked with the snazzy little number that Tane found me after going ring shopping alone yesterday.
Tane and I went ring shopping for our Civil Union the other day with high hopes and a low budget. We walked into one shop, and walked straight out again. The number of zeros on the little signs under the rings had scared us away. We went to a couple of other shops where we were shown lots of beautiful pieces of jewellery. A green ring that could have passed for costume jewellery. Stones so sharp they could double as a secret weapon and take your nemeses eyes’ out. Intricate designs that look like they must have been made by an army of elves - and all well outside our price range.
Each time, it took me a little while to say to the over eager assistant “that’s lovely, but do you have anything simpler?” The shop assistant would often look at me like I had two heads, blink a few times, and motion to a corner of the cabinet where the ‘simpler’ rings lived. Unadorned, unpretentious rings, hidden by ostentatious bling and elegant diamonds. I admired these simpler rings, all the while feeling that I had somehow betrayed the sisterhood by wanting a non-blingy ring. I wonder if, as a girl who doesn’t really care about bling, I am in a real minority?
The way I see it, I am getting a Civil Union because of the regular corny and clichéd reasons. Not because I want a shiny ring. Having said that though, I am absolutely stoked with the snazzy little number that Tane found me after going ring shopping alone yesterday.
P.S. Click here if that little sad feeling you have every now and then is due to not knowing the origin of the word bling
2 comments:
Mate, the real sisterhood knows you're worth plenty without some silly rock to advertise how much you traded your, ah, feminine bounty for ;-)
as a fellow simple-ring girl I'm happy to be in the minority with you! I hope to see it when ;o) you guys come to France on holiday.
-Julie Stockwell
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