As many of you know, I just celebrated my 15th wedding anniversary and as a gift, I was surprised with a brand new wedding ring. Though I am sentimental about a lot of things, my wedding ring is something I have never really been attached to. I’m sure many of you are horrified at the very thought but it’s true. Since I spent a good portion of my early adult life as a controlling personality (YES, I am still very controlling but I’ve gotten a little better) I was there, in the store, picking out my engagement ring and the wedding attachment. I even helped pay for it. Since we were very poor, very young and ill-advised (or rather “non-advised”) we went to one of those expensive stores – the ones that are always advertising on the radio – and stretched ourselves to buy a very low quality, highly yellowed ring on a gold band. Sure, they tried to sell us on the idea of platinum as it was “the way of the future” but I dismissed it as a passing fad, besides, it cost a bloody fortune! And as is my sinful nature, I started comparing my ring with everyone else’s. Coveting.
A few months ago I got a dazzling new ring. Vintage. So sparkling, I wondered if it was fake. Since it was ‘previously owned’ it didn’t quite fit right so I had to wear a cheap little plastic ring to hold it in place and make sure it didn’t slip off my finger. I wore it for a few months and finally, my dear friend, Ann, convinced me that I needed to have the ring sized for my finger.
There are experiences in life that are like a country club to me. Other people have them and I don’t belong there. So for those few months that I was wearing that ring, I knew I should get it sized but I figured that I probably wouldn’t. In actually I wouldn’t even know where to start and I was resolutely NOT about to leave my ring in the hands of some stranger! Being the good friend that she is, Ann did all kinds of research to find the right place and we made a date to drive out there together and get my ring sized. Because I trusted her, I trusted the jeweler.
While we were there he asked if I wanted to have the ring appraised. There I was – in the thick of my “country club experience”…It would cost $200 to get it appraised. Yes. I can actually afford $200 to get my ring appraised. How did I get here?!?! I can’t lie. I was downright giddy – embarrassingly giddy at the whole experience. I was in a jewelry store, in the O.C. getting a vintage ring sized and appraised. Luckily my friend is a good enough friend that I didn’t have to suppress my embarrassing giddiness. Oh yeah. She was totally laughing at me – but it wasn’t judgmental.
After I handed over the ring she and I walked around the city and she asked me if I had any thoughts about a wedding band. This ring was just one diamond in the center and three little diamonds flanking it on each side held together on a delicately thin platinum band. As it turns out, I had considered going all “Real Housewives” on it and getting an eternity wedding band with diamonds all around to compliment my shiny new bauble. She then leads me into a very large antique mall where, in one small corner was the shingle of a small vintage jeweler. Isn’t she sneaky?
Since I had already given my ring over to be sized, we had to use a similar one this shop had in its inventory as ‘home base’ and I tried on many, many bands. All vintage. For the first time that evening, I was starting to feel a bit blue. Nothing looked right. The ring of my dreams didn’t pan out the way I had imagined it would. The gal behind the counter showed us everything she had and every beautiful and dazzling band looked downright wrong. She advised that I try out a little plain wisp of a ring, silver, no frills. I slipped it on, then came a little glimmer in my soul – It was close but still not right. I took another one and sandwiched the diamond with two silver rings…voila! It was perfection. My heart started thumping…trumpets were fan faring, fireworks were shooting above. I was in love. The PLRWM deep in soul only liked the sweet plain rings, the cheapest trinkets she had in her display case. Crazy.
My daughter, who surprisingly enough is not sentimental in the LEAST, does not like my new ring. She thinks I am cheating on my REAL wedding ring and how dare I change after all these years?!?!? I think I need to start praying on behalf of her future husband now, because apparently the ring he buys her is hers forever. He’d better not mess it up!
For security’s sake, I’m not going to post pics or anything. You’ll just have to come and see it for yourself.