The Jewelry Monologues

So, I got about midway through the process of cataloging The Comm’s costume jewelry when I had the brilliant idea that maybe I should start sorting out my *own* costume jewelry. Adult ADHD anyone? Just to make it clear, that is some of *my* costume jewelry in the photooo, not The Comm’s. The Commander had nowhere near the gaudy taste that I do.

But I am sort of “over” jewelry. I was going to write about how much I liked it when I was a kid but I think I have always had a sort of a love / hate relationship with it. Jewelry I remember?

— A matching pink and gold necklace / bracelet set that I wore with my pink party dress when I was five. I still have it (I think).

— A birthstone (garnet) ring that my high school boyfriend gave me for my birthday once. I think I still have it. (He was good at picking out jewelry until he gave me a necklace with a cross on it. Um, not so much.) Er, that would be my *good* high school BF, not Bad Boyfriend. Lemme see, BB gave lent me exactly two pieces of jewelry while I knew him. One was his very own St. Christopher medal. Not being Catholic, I still dunno what that was all about. The other was this big ring with an Indian head (I think!) on it. We were “going steady” and you know that I wrapped yards of yarn around it so it would fit on my very small finger. Like all the cool girls did…

— A *loverly* Native American (or at least Native American style) choker I bought in my early 20s (no boyfriends at the time) in Ontario and wore it with the pride of an Indian wannabee. I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t want to be an Indian. Alas, my DNA got in the way of that dream. I have long since made peace with that.

— That same period of time was when I would attach a roach clip to one of my bib overall pockets. It held a loon feather. I was always a lightweight when it came to the usual contents of a roach clip and that’s a part of my life that I definitely do not want to explore in great deal on the Internet at this time, thank you very much. Hippie wannabee but those days are long gone…

— I was 37 when I got my ears pierced. For some reason, my parents seemed to think that getting your ears pierced when you were a teenager would bring shame upon the family. I know… I do not know why. “But moooooom, everybody *else* is getting their ears pierced.” Actually, “everybody else” *was*. Not me. Why didn’t I fight it? Probably because there was already enough going on what with Bad Boyfriend et al. I was smart enough to know that I had a pretty good ride going on there with those parents, even when we disagreed about something. Like, they had jobs and salaries and I didn’t. So I picked my battles. My kids? Ears pierced in grade school. If somebody I wanted to judge me as a bad parent, I did not care.

Whew! I let that last one get away from me. All I had intended to say was that I had a love affair with earrings for a while. I still wear them when I remember to, especially a certain pair of Radical Betty’s that I snagged when Uber Kayak Woman opened up her jewelry box after she died.

The truth is that I often feel encumbered by jewelry. Any bracelet that dangles in any way is out because I make my living hanging out on a computer and have you ever tried to type with bracelets jangling around? And earrings I forget plus, if they do not have silver waaarrs, they irritate my holes. Necklaces… Necklaces… Necklaces… I love them but I hate when they disintegrate. I once had a beloved necklace with lots of beads and fish and stuff. I wore it all the time at my old IT job, back in the Jurassic Age. I was wearing it the day some corporate hussy came in to deliver some sort of bad news and I was trying to stand there and listen respectfully when the string that held that necklace together suddenly decided to disintegrate and I started to rain beads and fish and my beloved work-friend Nader (where the heck are you?) jumped down and scrambled to try to collect them. It was a futile effort. I wasn’t going to try to put that thing back together. It was a cheap thing and there are probably about a billion similar necklaces down in Fla. It was kind of fun to watch the poor little corporate gal squirm a bit as her carefully rehearsed presentation got totally derailed by my wardrobe failure.

Anyway, I am getting rid of jewelry (mine, not The Comm’s (yet)). Anyone want some?

The title? Its my monologue but I also stand in solidarity with all of those folks (including one of my daughters) who traveled to Michigan’s capital today for a performance of The Vagina Monologues on the steps of the Capitol building. Eve Ensler, who wrote the play, proposed this event and flew out here for it and a number of female state legislators are in the cast. We have got to get rid of the Michigan Misogynists! Creating a better business environment for our state does not include legislating what women do with their bodies.

P. S. How could I forget the two gold chains I *always* wear. I guess because I have not taken them off in about the last 25 years. I had to check just now to make sure they were still there!

3 Responses to “The Jewelry Monologues”

  1. Sam Says:

    FYI, I am still in an earring phase. (I think. Subtly, anyway.)

  2. Margaret Says:

    I wear my diamond posts and a watch and that’s it. I can’t stand anything dangling or rattling or getting in my way. 😉

  3. jane Says:

    I’ll check out your jewels before you hand them off….