Jewelry

Katie D.

February 2, 2009 - 10:00 PM

I'm a jewelry person. I've been kind of weird about jewelry for a long, long time. In middle school I had a necklace with Chinese yen on it that I would add a new coin every time something important happened in my life. In high school I once wore a necklace for months without taking it off (a sweet but rather odd expression of affection for the boyfriend who gave it to me). From those early years of monogamous jewelry relationships I have expanded into a whole universe of jewelry options, but still in a sort of quirky way. I have very few pieces of jewelry I acquired simply because I thought they were pretty. Each piece of jewelry has some special meaning to me-it was a gift, memento, souvenir, or some personal creation. They've got cool stories. Cool enough to write a whole blog about.

I'll begin with my current favorite. It's a necklace: a black string with an Argentinian peso as a pendant. Argentinian pesos have a sun on them, like their flag. I bought this necklace at the handcrafts and antiques fair in the San Telmo district of Buenos Aires last summer with my mom. The artist used a tiny saw to cut around the rays of the sun on one side. It is beautiful and unique and something I definitely could not make for myself.

I often wear this necklace with earrings I did make myself. There are two Guatemalan coins per earring, with black and silver beads. Guatemalan currency (quetzales) are incredibly beautiful, with the crest of the country on one side of each coin, prominently featuring the national bird, the Quetzal. The male quetzal is a small green bird with a tail three times as long as its body. The coins are beautiful, and come with a story of their own. Coins in Guatemala are worth almost nothing because one Quetzal is equal to about 1/8 of a US dollar, so a single Guatemalan cent is basically useless, and are rarely used. But they are pretty and light: perfect for making jewelry. So I went on a quest around the city during my final weekend in Guatemala during my trip two summers ago, asking local shop owners for change. Considering my level of Spanish at the time, this was no small feat and I'm sure some of the good people of Xela are still telling stories of the crazy blond gringa spare-changing in their little shops.

Another necklace with a good story is one I do not wear often but treasure greatly. The summer after I graduated from high school I worked at Denver Urban Ministries, a food and clothing bank in downtown Denver. I worked one day a week, assisting with the distribution of free produce. I got to know some of the clients very well, and one man brought me a necklace made of a black shoelace and brown wooden beads. I wore it every week I worked there, and still think of that man and that place when I wear it now. It is a reminder of how kind people can be, even while struggling with difficult life circumstances.

I have two key necklaces. They are literally keys. I was garage saleing with my friend Lauren a few weeks before I left for college my freshman year, and she got to a bunch of old, mysterious-looking keys a moment before I did. I forgave her in the end when she gave me a key necklace on the eve of my departure for college. I wear that necklace all the time, and alternatively tell people the key is "the key to my heart" or that I'm questing for a locked box or door that I'll find someday.

The second key necklace my friend Grant found in an antique shop in Istanbul while abroad last fall. The owner presented it to him for free, and he then carried it with him during his adventures until it came here to me.

I wear five rings every day: a spoon ring from the Eugene Saturday market purchased during my freshman year, a class ring from high school, a red and black spiral ring from Chile, a spiral sea shell ring from my friend Melanie, and an amber and silver Celtic style ring from my sister. Even if they weren't cool in their own right, all the places I've taken them would lend them importance in my book.

I have a woven hemp choker necklace that is cool on two levels. My friend Melanie braided the necklace for me, using small black beads and one large black and red swirled glass bead. So that's wonderful, because I love wearing things she made for me. But it's also awesome because I made that red and black bead in a class at the craft center at the University of Oregon. Perhaps I'll write more about that sometime, but it was an awesome class all about basic glass working, and I loved shaping beads and learning bead decoration techniques.

Another pair of favorite earrings are dark blue lapiz lasuli in a sort of elongated lightning bolt form. These were a gift from my Chilean host family the week before I finished my semester abroad. They are beautiful, and are a real treasure because of how much I love and miss those people.

My friend Lauren of the key necklace also gave me two other unique necklaces. She is an archeology student and was at a field school in Scotland two summers ago. When she returned she brought me a necklace she had made with a chunk of slate that had once been part of a medieval roof (and no, this wasn't theft of a precious artifact, they weren't keeping roof tiles that didn't have peg holes in them). I wear this necklace even though it really just looks like a black chain with a large piece of gray rock. Believe it or not, almost no one ever asks about this.

For Christmas this year she also "improved" another piece of slate with wire and jeweled decorations. So now I'm not just archaeological, I'm also stylish.

I love talking about my funky jewelry. I haven't even told them all: there's a pewter pendant I poured myself, a shell necklace from the maid in my Chilean family's house, the soapstone and leather necklace I made in my traditional technologies archeology class, glass earrings from the La Boca neighborhood of Buenos Aires, woven bracelets from Guatemala, and many, many more.

Some people collect stamps, rocks, shot glasses, or those little decorative spoons. I have a cousin who collects beer t-shirts. I collect jewelry, and stories. So the next time you see a girl with exotic-looking jewelry, please go ahead and ask. She's probably dying to tell the story.