Diamonds Are Forgotten

I have reached that time in life where it seems all around me are declaring love and announcing engagement. On a couple’s arrival home after the popping of the question, friends flock around to congratulate, hug and toast the pair.

This is swiftly followed by the male being squeezed out of the picture and bride-to-be being moved to centre so all ladies present can get their first viewing of The Ring.Oohing and aahing ensues and complimenting begins, as does, inevitably, the trying on.

The Ring is passed from female to female all earnestly advising each other on the correct direction to turn said ring to ensure … to avoid … to confirm … well nobody can quite remember what the purpose of the exercise is but everyone knows that it’s really very important that you turn the ring clockwise (no wait maybe it’s…)

Once everyone has tried & turned and there is only me left to go, Bride-To-Be might signal that she is ready to take her most precious new addition back. All eyes focus firmly in my direction, urging that I get on with the business of trying and turning. And I do try … to the best of my ability. And it looks really lovely hanging around the knuckle of my finger – I mean we get the idea, why push the issue? No, no I’m sure it could go the whole way down if I wanted it to but you know, I just feel selfish, my time is up. No really it’s fine. No really, my fingers are too fat! There. I said it. Now you know. ‘Really? And you’re such a short thing that you’d think you’d have fingers to match?’ No, no … no little fingers here. I’m a 5-foot-something-insignificant with well-fed fingers that don’t showcase diamonds quite as well as my slimmer handed gal friends.

Perhaps this is why when my nose is squashed up against a glass window it’s usually not for the diamond in the front row but rather for the huge cocktail ring at the back. As my breath becomes heavier on the pane (and onlooking jeweller becomes unnerved), I am instantly taken to a smoke-filled Speakeasy where jazz fills the atmosphere and glamour is a prerequisite. Oh and my hands look really teeny in comparison.

Although I usually do all of my jewellery shopping at vintage markets or in little boutiques on holidays, I found this ring on Pebble London‘s site and my heart has pitter-pattered at the thought ever since. It brings to mind antiques, India and filled dance floors making me feel happy, exotic and nostalgic.

And so, although solitaires are divine to look at, my friends are glorious donning them and they are surely a none-too-shady way to declare love, I think I’ll still be coveting cocktails for another while yet…

Well, unless diamonds actually come in this size?