Manolo for the Brides

When people around me are talking about engagement rings, I always like to say that I wouldn’t have cared if The Beard had gotten me a Ring Pop. Being that he didn’t propose with a ring, it wouldn’t have made much difference, and I (unlike a lot of people, I’m sure) would have thought it was cute. Very Beard-ish, in fact.

But if you’re going to go the Ring Pop route, you may want to think about springing for the upgrade. What’s one step up from a supermarket candy jewel? A Candy-Glam ring by Escriba, of course!

Christian Escriba’s candy rings are the stuff of a sugar addict’s fantasies. Okay, so maybe they wouldn’t make the best tokens of love–unless, of course, your SO has a sense of humor like my own–but they could make fun gifts for a bridesmaid or flower girl, or even a cool wedding favor. Much better, in my opinion, than the giant novelty rings you occasionally come across.

What’s sadder than all of the unloved, unworn wedding gowns for sale out there? I’d say it’s the rings (diamond and otherwise) that get caught in the middle when a wedding is called off or two people decide that they just didn’t like each other as much as they originally thought.

Many a jilted lover has wondered what to do with a leftover ring, which is why I was entirely unsurprised when I stumbled upon I Do…Now I Don’t, an auction site created to match those “who are looking to sell engagement rings they no longer need or want with buyers who are in the market for a great deal.” It also has breaking-up how tos and breakup survival tips.

Personally I hope that there is an article somewhere on the site that reminds anyone buying a secondhand engagement ring that they might to keep the bauble’s origins quiet. Giving your honey your beloved grandmother’s engagement ring is a beautifully romantic gesture that’s sure to warm most hearts. Giving your honey a diamond solitaire that played a supporting role in the tale of a Lothario and a devastated lady? Not recommended.

In fact, many people believe that it’s bad luck to give or wear an engagement ring that was involved in a failed relationship. The same goes for wedding bands — a secondhand band will be regarded as quite unlucky by some.

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Reader comments have been unbelievably fabulous lately, so I thought I’d share a handful here in case there are actually people out there who haven’t given in to the impulse to explore popular opinion.

Alex said:
If you want to donate to charity, that’s wonderful and generous of you. Please don’t make the decision for me. It is in no way shape or form a favor or gift for me. Don’t get me wrong, I think donating to a charity you believe in is great and I think people have their hearts in the right place…I’m just not sure why exactly it has to be announced to me, you know?

Innkeeper Jason said:
Sometimes these doubts are seeds that have been planted by other people and sometimes it is just nerves and sometimes perhaps you are marrying the wrong person. For those of you who have called it off, I applaud you for the courage it must have taken.

Toby Wollin said:
Actually, my favorite periods are up through about the mid-60s: you could still get a dress with a decent neckline, sleeves, and interesting skirts and waists. Once you get into the 70s it was Gunnysack Hell, and then straight down the road to the Strapless Follies. If I had to make myself a bridal gown today, I’d go straight to the vintage pattern folks and look there.

C* said:
If any of you have purchased (or been given) any diamond jewlery between Jan. 1, 1994 and March 31, 2006 check out Diamondsclassaction.com and file a claim to get a refund from the lawsuit against DeBeers. Apparently they had an illegal monopoly on diamond sales during those years (is that really surprising at all?).

From the comments on my recent post, it’s pretty clear that there are still those old fashioned gals who crave an out of this world rock with a price tag that makes their men feel a little uncomfortable. Ask ye shall receive, ladies…but be ready to expect the unexpected. I do indeed have some rings for you.

Out of this world? Check. A tad pricey? Check.

See that gray stuff? It’s straight up meteorite, i.e. those big old hunks of minerals that originate in outer space and survive a fall to earth. I think these are utterly gorgeous.

The ring on the left is a genuine piece of Mars inlaid in 18k gold. The chunk of the red planet was cut from a Mars rock, found in the desert and officially cataloged under the name Dhofar 019. The ring on the right contains a certified piece of the moon inlaid in 18k gold. The moon bit was cut from a larger moon rock cataloged as Dhofar461, which was classified by researchers A. Rubin and Paul Warren from UCLA. They do look kind of cheap (in terms of aesthetics, not the price tag), but might be just the thing for the astronomy buff in your life.

Okay, so it’s not the big bling…but I think there is something cool about the idea of exchanging rings made of stuff that has been outside Earth’s atmosphere in the not so distant past.

Back in the day — by which I mean a period beginning shortly after WWII and ending sometime around the year 2000 when the United Nations General Assembly finally recognized the whole “blood diamond” thing — the recipe for getting engaged read, “Take one diamond valued at roughly two month’s salary plus one knee, and combine. Issue proposal thusly for maximum effect.” Screw you very much, De Beers.

I tend to forget about the whole business of diamonds for a couple of reasons. One, I don’t subscribe to cable or have an antenna, so my exposure to those nerve-gratingly annoying De Beers commercials is kept at a bare minimum. Two, most of my engaged and married peeps received something other than diamonds from their sweeties. And three, as much as I adore all that sparkles, I subscribe to the rather old fashioned notion that big bling looks best on ladies over the age of 50. Perhaps that should even be 60 or 70, considering that 40 is apparently the new 20, which would naturally make 50 the new 30 and so on.

So why am I suddenly concerned with mineralogical numerology? I read something yesterday in the online journal of a friend of a friend.

What is a diamond? It’s a pretty stone, but a really expensive one, and one that only means “I love you” because people think its absence means “I don’t”. With diamonds as the social norm in many countries, marriage is like a game of chicken - neither partner can broach the subject of not getting a diamond ring, because to do so would sound like less than total commitment.

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I stumbled upon an old article in the Boston Globe that talked about the revival of the old “man basking the bride’s dad’s consent” tradition, and it made me think of The Beard’s proposal. He did in fact call my dad to ask his blessing, mostly because I’d told him a number of times that my dad would really like that. My dad, as you might guess, is an old fashioned dude. For the record, I would have married The Beard even if my father had told him to buzz off–he was asking for my dad’s blessing, not his permission.

What interested me more than the article itself was the range of responses I found in the comments section.

If a young man wanted to come talk to me about marrying my daughter BEFORE he had talked to her, I would have serious reservations about the man. I think it would show a lack of respect for the woman he wanted to marry. This is something I would expect my daughters to figure out on their own (like grown women) and then come tell me once they had decided. For most of us women, it is a reminder of a time when we were excluded from a lot of the decision making about our lives. Completely creepy.

If you’re going to discuss getting married as a couple, then why even propose or ask?! What’s the point if you’ve already discussed the subject? Sorry but with how important my family is to me, I would want my parents consent before a guy asked me to marry him. Maybe I’m old fashioned or maybe I am lucky to have a supportive family that knows who I am.

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You know what makes you feel rich and poor at the same time? Buying a house. Suddenly, you have all this money in your bank account, and you’re writing these rather large checks. Probably the largest you’ll ever write, in all honesty. The Beard and I have recently been writing many such checks, and every time I’m manipulating another X-thousands of dollars, my first thought is “BLING BLING!”

I didn’t get the big bling when I got engaged… mainly because I didn’t want it! But that doesn’t mean I don’t like looking at (and joking about) ice that is NOT the kind you use to cool a cocktail. On that note, here are some engagement rings that are mainly for those who will be enjoying a lot more ‘for richer’ days than ‘for poorer’ ones.

Or maybe not. Go ahead and click on the pics above, but consider that dropping a cool eight thou on a ring for your sweetie likely only makes you feel really rich until you have a gander at your bank statement. Which leads me to contemplate an interesting question: What’s the ice on your finger worth if you can’t even afford to ice up your drink?

As the Manolo might say, here are some links that may amuse:

No one will know we were bridesmaids…

I ain’t know a diamond from extremely great salt.

You: Mod Girl. Smart, sexy, saucy, sophisticated. And now engaged.

They were slapping their foreheads saying, “Why didn’t we think of that?”

A hundred thousand dollars, according to my extremely rough calculations, is how much a family of four spends on weddings, baby and bridal showers, graduations, baptisms and communions and brit milot and b’nai mitzvot and sweet sixteens and engagement parties and fiftieth-birthday shebangs and retirement parties and golden wedding anniversaries.

Ever wonder where the diamonds in your engagement ring came from? There is a chance they came from this ginormous open pit diamond mine (the world’s largest) near Mirny, Russia, East Siberia:

According to the U.S. Mine Rescue Association, the mine is 525 meters deep and a whopping 1200 meters in diameter. The air space over the mine is closed to helicopters due to a few accidents in which choppers were sucked into the pit by downward air flow!

And notice that tiny red arrow in the photo above. That arrow is pointing to a full size, 2o-foot-tall BELAZ 220-pound payload truck! Wild, no?