Now that’s an engagement ring!

The diamond industry’s marketing campaign has totally gotten to  me.  When I was younger I thought diamonds were silly and not especially pretty and I didn’t like their history and the unnecessary allocation of resources on such a trifle.  Now, for reasons I don’t quite understand myself, I think they’re rather pretty and part of me wants one.  I mean, they’re shiny and sparkly and pretty and symbolic.  Who cares if the “tradition” was made up by a De Beers executive in the last century, I want to be part of it!  I’ve started staring longingly at women’s engagement rings when I see them at work, on my friends’ ring fingers, in this photograph of my future sister-in-law’s hand… 

I’m starting to think about “right-hand rings”, too, those new diamond rings marketed to women to buy for themselves.  Why wait for a man to buy the diamond of my dreams for me?  I’m successful, secure, and beautiful.  I’m worth it.  One website’s copy reads: “Women around the globe are realizing they’re worth it!  Splurge a little, live a little, sparkle a lot!  Women work and can buy what they want.  They can reward themselves.  Right hand rings not only make a fashion statement, they celebrate independence and freedom.   And men can buy them too, to show a woman he does appreciate her uniqueness!”

The only thing keeping me back from a ring — engagement or right-hand — is vanity: I have huge knuckles and rings looking foolish on me.  When they’re big enough to fit over my knuckle, they knock around on the finger.  If they’re small enough to rest nicely where they’re supposed to, it doesn’t make it past the knuckle.  Oh, plus that whole “engagement” aspect of an engagement ring is kind of a downer.

March 25, 2007. Pictures, Words.