Golden rules

One day when I was lamenting about my closet woes and sighing for the hundred and twentieth time over a newly bought necklace that had given out on me after barely the first wear, my dear mother sagely told me that perhaps I should trade in a bursting wardrobe and countless shiny knick knacks for real jewels. I did pause to actually ponder the remarkable good sense of that idea. It seemed built on solid, investment worthy rationale if not for the fact that she might have been inspired by the moment in sex and the city when Carrie disappointedly expressed hope for 'maybe a piece of jewelry?' after being none too happily surprised with a sleek new television for the bedroom. While mum was discussing the intelligence behind saving on trendy high street, 'disposable' pieces and channeling that budget towards the commodities market, read: the increasing value of gold, my mind had gone in another direction, Diamonds.

My magpie tendencies had taken me straight to the other extreme. 'But how could I afford anything I truly want?' I asked plaintitively. If I was going to 'invest' in the future, it had to be a piece that I was completely in love with! The reply was tactfully cautious, mum clearly recalling, rather lately in my opinion, the size of my petit petit budget. 'Well', she said, 'perhaps you could go for coloured jewels first...diamonds later.'
Coloured jewels? Ad campaigns from countless magazines flashed through my imagination. Cartier, I whispered, breathlessly. An emerald from Cartier.
Obviously unsure whether to crush my newly found religion, mum chirped enthusiastically, 'all right then, we'll go have a look at Cartier this weekend!' It took awhile I have to admit before the more rationale side of my brain caught up but two minutes later the haze cleared and I finally dredged up a reply, 'Yeah mum, we could go and look at keychains...or maybe Cartier has some nice namecard holders huh?'


images here.