I’m trying to remember when I abandoned silver. I’d say it had to be in the early 2000s, when I stopped incorporating it or wearing it altogether for the almighty yellow gold, which obviously I adore. Honestly, it was a snobby and snotty move on my part. I left her behind, my first love (of metal of course) for the allure of gold, relegating her to jewelry boxes and dark drawers, giving her away to my sweet nieces and friends (who wear the jewelry beautifully and with great sentiment - I’m so glad they have these pieces), and went my merry way - leaving her behind like trash on the curb. I am ashamed of myself. I’m ashamed because it was more than just a change of style; it was because I was judging her, and I believed I had grown beyond her beautiful tones and softness. Recently, I have been viewing her from afar, like a jealous lover, wondering how I could ever get her back. I have evolved, and I am finding my way back, if she will take me.
At an early age, I fell in love with silver. Squash Blossom necklaces that adorned the neck of Cher may have had something to do with it. Ali McGraw layered in silver hearts and chokers, or Elsa Peretti in her silver perfume bottle and cuffs ... I was a fool for silver! During my father’s business trips, he would bring me back liquid silver necklaces (do you remember that craze?) and Navajo turquoise and coral rings (my favorite lost forever in the ocean on a trip to Mexico with a friend) - much to the chagrin of my maternal grandmother, a very conservative Southern woman, being heavily adorned in silver jewelry for my confirmation was not her aesthic. But when the bishop showed up covered in Indigenous silver jewelry from around the world, my choices were not only validated, but it gave my grandmother a much-needed kick in the pants.
Last year, I started reminiscing about how much I loved silver and its edgy tones, especially when set against high-colored gold. I reached out to my friend, Marla Aaron, and told her my next purchase would be one of her silver-and-gold curb-chain bracelets, and just like that, I was back in the game of embracing my first love. In the 1980s, my sister, Mary Lyon, gave me a Robert Lee Morris silver knuckle ring, which somehow ended up in the hands of a guitar player, and I regret that terribly. A knuckle ring and an unusual silver, brass and copper RLM cuff are on my wish list, too, as well as a Charles LaLoma cuff and ring, a gal can dream!
At 62, I still very much feel like the girl who wanted nothing more than to be covered in silver jewelry and sing with Fleetwood Mac. Maybe that’s why I’m finding my way back to silver? Whatever the reason, I’m excited by what will be showing up in my collection, and if I post on here more than every six months, I’ll show you as soon as it arrives.