Baubles and Bangles, redux

I have a dozen pieces — necklaces and earrings — made by a jewelry/artwear designer I was fortunate enough to be connected to in my late 20s, before her work became so sought after that the prices flew beyond my means. All but one of my pieces are made from lucite resin, which the artist carved and shaped as a sculptor would stone. Ten of my pieces I bought at various studio sales she held. One pair of earrings was a gift from the friend who introduced me to her work. And one pair I was lucky enough to find at an accessible price on eBay two summers ago.

I lost an earring 20 years ago, a fact that upsets me to this day. I still have the remaining earring and will eventually make it into a pendant.

I keep her name as an alert on eBay and Google because pieces are put up for sale every now and then. That’s how I was able to buy the gorgeous green earrings I bought two years ago. The alerts make me long for a bigger bank account (or a sugar daddy). Most recently, there was an extraordinary necklace listed, a necklace I would wear the hell out of. It was offered with a $1,000 opening bid. That necklace would look amazing on me, but I’m not a person who can casually make purchases like that, and I’m not sure I could justify the purchase even if I had that kind of disposable cash.

I mentioned that I lost an earring years ago. It’s still crazy to me that that could have happened. They were large and a litle heavy. How could one have fallen off my ear without my noticing immediately, but that’s what happened. I left the house with two earrings, arrived at my destination with one.

That horror almost repeated itself last week. I was wearing a smaller version of the same style of earring. I went to my event and headed to the subway afterward. As my train was coming in, I reached up to put on my mask … and only had an earring in my left ear! I had a few seconds of complete panic and sadness and frustration. But I knew I’d felt both earrings when I’d put on my mask for the bust I’d taken to get to the train. I was about to retrace my steps back to the bus stop, but then thought to check my scarf. Thank goodness that was a chilly enough night that I had a nubbly wool scarf around my neck, and snagged in that loose weave was my earring. The back had slipped off (or been pulled off by the ear loop of my mask?) and my earring had liberated itself. I pulled off it’s mate and put both in my bag as I stepped onto the train. Crisis averted.

Now, maybe you’re thinking, “Com on, Stacie. It’s just an earring.” First, let me say, if you think any of my earrings is “just an earring,” you don’t know about me and my jewelry. I have risked my life for far cheaper and less significant earrings than the one I almost lost last week. But also, the artwear designer who made those beautiful earrings passed away right before Covid, so — even if I could afford the kinds of prices this jewelry sells for today — there is no replacing any of my pieces. Losing one would break my heart. And, too, I’m just entirely ridiculous about my jewelry, particularly my earrings.

Better backs. This is the secret to not losing my precious Croninger earrings. Losing a back was surely how I lost the earring 20 years ago and was definitely what led to my almost losing my earring last week. Better backs.

I wore my earrings today and was grateful for them, breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction at having them and relief at not having lost one. And yes, if I ever hit the lotto (which is unlikely to happen since I never actually play the lotto), I will spend my prize money (after boring things like debt elimination and obvious things like fountain pens) on finding and buying all the necklaces and earrings from this artist that I can. And I will wear the hell out of them and feel touched by Fortune every time I put one on, just as I do now.

Yes, visual aids. The pink, glowy one is the remaining earring of the one I lost in 2003. The blue are the ones I wore today. The blue are about one-inch long, so you can see how much bigger the pink one is. How could that have fallen off without me noticing? #TheGreatMysteries.

Do you have a similar obsessive love for some adornment or trinket? A favorite pair of earrings, a beloved bracelet? Can you relate to my horror at losing an earring, at almost losing another earring?

(Tonight I had some time, so I decided to play a little with the AI Assistant. I revised based on the first feedback then ran the generator again … and revised again … and generated feedback again … and revised one last time and generated feedback again. You can read the feedback if you’re curious. It’s interesting to see what the AI looks for, the suggestions it adds to it’s feedback as my revisions progress. Maybe my post is better because of the edits? Maybe.)

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