During dinner at my friend M.'s house, she admonished, "Don’t settle for anything less than a 2 carat diamond when he proposes!” I had just told her how smitten I was with my boyfriend. “Are you serious?!” I said. “Yeah,” M* replied, slipping her ring off her finger. “This is a .5 carat diamond. Want to try it on?”
I held the ring -- a simple band with a glittering diamond embedded in the center -- gingerly. I couldn’t bring myself to try it on; her husband had meant it only for her hand. "Hmm…” I said, handing it back to her. Although I was a bridesmaid in her wedding, I never paid close attention to the ring.
“I want an upgrade!” M. announced mischievously. “For our 10-year anniversary – I deserve it after taking care of the kids!” She grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and sketched a ring – a diamond in the middle flanked by little diamonds and more bling around the band. “This is what I want.”
Then, M. grabbed her laptop and opened the Tiffany’s website. I got up from the kitchen table and came around to her side, peering over her shoulder. “See this?” she said, pointing to a ring with three bold diamonds in the center. “That’s one for the past, one for the present and one for the future.” She clicked on an image of another ring – with a squarish diamond. “That’s a princess cut.” “And that,” she said, moving to the next image, “is the brilliant cut.” I groaned. "Eleven thousand dollars!"
M. turned to me, furrowing her brow playfully. “That’s not expensive! Patricia's ring must have cost about $30,000!”
Now I admit, I like pretty things as much as the next woman. And I like sparkly, unique things. But I've discovered that pretty, unique things don't have to cost the amount of a down payment. One of my favorite things in my closet is a tight blue shirt, with a silver dragon on the front and on the arm. I paid $5.00 for it at a Turkish market in Amsterdam. Then there's my beautiful dark blue and orange paisley scarf -- that I paid all of $7.00 for -- at Long's. Yes, as in the drugstore -- where you pick up paper towels, prescriptions, cereal. I'm moved by gifts -- whether it's a love poem from a "manly" kind of man, a flower he picked from his back yard, or a bouquet of one dozen Ecuadorian roses. It's the thought. It's the time. It's the vision of him wandering the purse section of Macy's, fending off the saleswomen, when I know he hates to shop.
It amazes me that a ring can mean so many different things to different people. Restitution for watching the kids. A status symbol (for both women and men). A sign for potential suitors to keep their distance -- perhaps a dare for them to "beat that!"
What happened to rings as a gesture of love and devotion?
I held the ring -- a simple band with a glittering diamond embedded in the center -- gingerly. I couldn’t bring myself to try it on; her husband had meant it only for her hand. "Hmm…” I said, handing it back to her. Although I was a bridesmaid in her wedding, I never paid close attention to the ring.
“I want an upgrade!” M. announced mischievously. “For our 10-year anniversary – I deserve it after taking care of the kids!” She grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and sketched a ring – a diamond in the middle flanked by little diamonds and more bling around the band. “This is what I want.”
Then, M. grabbed her laptop and opened the Tiffany’s website. I got up from the kitchen table and came around to her side, peering over her shoulder. “See this?” she said, pointing to a ring with three bold diamonds in the center. “That’s one for the past, one for the present and one for the future.” She clicked on an image of another ring – with a squarish diamond. “That’s a princess cut.” “And that,” she said, moving to the next image, “is the brilliant cut.” I groaned. "Eleven thousand dollars!"
M. turned to me, furrowing her brow playfully. “That’s not expensive! Patricia's ring must have cost about $30,000!”
Now I admit, I like pretty things as much as the next woman. And I like sparkly, unique things. But I've discovered that pretty, unique things don't have to cost the amount of a down payment. One of my favorite things in my closet is a tight blue shirt, with a silver dragon on the front and on the arm. I paid $5.00 for it at a Turkish market in Amsterdam. Then there's my beautiful dark blue and orange paisley scarf -- that I paid all of $7.00 for -- at Long's. Yes, as in the drugstore -- where you pick up paper towels, prescriptions, cereal. I'm moved by gifts -- whether it's a love poem from a "manly" kind of man, a flower he picked from his back yard, or a bouquet of one dozen Ecuadorian roses. It's the thought. It's the time. It's the vision of him wandering the purse section of Macy's, fending off the saleswomen, when I know he hates to shop.
It amazes me that a ring can mean so many different things to different people. Restitution for watching the kids. A status symbol (for both women and men). A sign for potential suitors to keep their distance -- perhaps a dare for them to "beat that!"
What happened to rings as a gesture of love and devotion?
