I once stood in a dimly lit gallery at the Victoria & Albert Museum, pressed against a glass case like a child at a sweet shop window, staring at a necklace I had read about for years but never expected to see in person. The Beauharnais Emeralds. Huge emerald briolettes, the color of an Amazonian…
I spent years looking for jewelry that was beautiful, well-made, and didn’t make me feel complicit in the destruction of the planet. This was harder than it sounds. For a long time, the choice seemed binary: you could buy mass-market jewelry from brands with opaque supply chains and documented environmental abuses, or you could buy…
I used to think that “ethical jewelry” meant simply doing no harm. Mining that didn’t destroy mountains. Diamonds that didn’t fund wars. Gold that didn’t poison rivers. I spent years searching for brands that had cleaned up their supply chains, eliminated the worst practices, and could look me in the eye and say, “This stone…
I have a confession that still makes me uncomfortable when I think about it. For years, I sold emeralds without ever asking where they came from. I knew about the four Cs—color, clarity, cut, carat—but I didn’t know about the miners, the communities, or the environmental cost. I assumed that if a stone was in…
I have a confession that still makes my collector friends roll their eyes. For years, I wore a smartwatch. It tracked my steps, buzzed with notifications, and told me the weather in Tokyo. It was useful. It was also utterly soulless. When I looked at my wrist, I didn’t see me. I saw a piece of…
I have a confession that still makes me smile when I think about it. For years, I assumed June babies had it easy. One birthstone, like everyone else. Then I learned the truth: June has three official birthstones – pearl, alexandrite, and moonstone. Three. That’s not a choice; it’s a delightful dilemma. When my best friend’s June…
I have a confession that still surprises my friends who’ve known me for years. For most of my adult life, I wore exactly zero jewelry. Not a watch, not a wedding band (I wasn’t married), not even a simple chain. I thought men’s accessories were either stuffy (cufflinks) or flashy (pinky rings). Then, for my…
I have a confession that still makes me wince when I think about my own wedding. I gave my bridesmaids monogrammed tote bags. You know the kind – canvas, their names in cursive, supposedly “personalized.” They were cute. They were also, within a year, used as beach bags, gym bags, or donation pile fodder. I…
I have a confession that still makes my heart swell when I think about it. A few years ago, my parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. I wanted to give them something that matched the magnitude of four decades together – the fights they’d survived, the children they’d raised, the quiet mornings and loud dinners…
I have a confession that still feels a little mystical to admit. A few years ago, I was standing at a crossroads. My career felt stagnant. My relationships were shifting. I didn’t know what I wanted – only that I needed something to change. A friend who practices energy work handed me a small, milky…