I love vintage jewelry. All vintage jewelry. Dime store plastic cracker jack trinkets, French paste baubles made to look like real diamonds, charm bracelets with tiny Eiffel towers and Venetian gondolas, bubble gum colored, pearlized, marble sized graduated beads, old buddha pendants with rubies stuck into their big bellies, rings with inscriptions so worn out the the names are missing except for a letter or two, lockets with faded sepia photographs of babies, signed pieces that I've purchased for a few dollars, only to discover they are worth 20 times what I've paid. I love it all but what I love most is the wonder and mystery of who the woman was who wore the jewelry. Was she happy? Did the piece of jewelry I now owned mean something very special to her? Where and when did she live and die? What did she look like? Who gave her the jewelry and what was their relationship? How did it end up in a store, flea market or garage sale? I've crafted many scenarios in my head and I will start sharing them here, complete with photos, so you can take a peek with me and think about the woman who owned each piece.
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