3 of the girls and me
There were many car trips taken in the 18 years before I left home. We drove everywhere. My parents were from Kansas and Nebraska, so there were the summer trips to the grandparents’ houses… family reunions in Colorado… summer lake vacations up north in Minnesota… and one obligatory educational trip to Washington DC. (My dad famously “stopped by” Gettysburg on the way home and my older brothers woke up from their dead sleep in the backseat of the station wagon to find a tour guide in the car with us. They stayed in the “way back” with their age-appropriately bad attitudes as they listened to his stories of the rivers of blood as we drove around the battlefields.) For every one of these trips, we could not leave the house without my mother’s charm bracelet with the St. Christopher medal on it. We were not Catholics, but for her, and for whatever reason, this little guardian was not negotiable. I remember turning the car around when we must have been 30 minutes down the road so she could go get it. You can imagine the groans from all of us... especially my dad. “Judith, my God! We are Episcopalians!” St. Christopher was coming or she was not. My sister got the charm bracelet when my mother died, but we share the memory. I found my own St. Christopher medal to remind me of her. (It also works for my brother Christopher, who passed away when we were in our late twenties.) I wear it often and each time I fasten it around my neck, I think of them both. It is a gift to me, and one I take when I travel. It has become my own non-negotiable.
What I am trying to say is that jewelry is more than ornamentation. It is history — the history we are making for ourselves, the family and friends that we love. Any piece can be a story. You just have to deem it important and sentimental, and it will be.
In my 65 years I have collected quite a few of those jewelry-box stories. Sid looked at my hands recently and asked if I really needed all those rings — I have been adding more and more over the years, and it was like he’d just noticed. Of course I do. But he is right that there are a lot. 1) My yellow sapphire engagement ring, which I adore. 2) A gypsy ring he gave me on my first Mother’s Day, with ruby birthstones for the two of us and a diamond birthstone for our daughter. 3) A simple silver band from Chris. 4) Another gold band that belonged to him, too big so I use my engagement ring to hold it below my knuckle. 5) A Cartier 5-band trinity ring from my 50th birthday… doubly symbolic because I have five girls. 6-7) Two different carnelian intaglio signet rings, both bought on Italy trips by me and for me. 8) Another gypsy ring that reminds me of one my Grandma Hope wore. One afternoon I needed a lift and impulse-bought one on 1st Dibs, just because. 9) A little Elsa Peretti Tiffany band. I made a little tradition of giving these to all the girls on their 13th, 16th, and 18th birthdays… so three per daughter means a lot to go around. 10) Lastly, the gold wedding band that I have never, ever, ever even MOVED from my finger since 4:40pm or so on December 5, 1987 when we married. A friend told me at my little wedding shower that her grandmother kept hers on her entire life. I don’t remember asking if it had gone to the grave with her, but I do remember it being the most romantic thing I had ever heard. There have been a few big fights when I wanted to throw mine out the window, but just like Margaret’s grandmother, it has remained in place.
This fall we have launched a jewelry collection, all made in Italy and a true labor of love. For many of the pieces in it, I have my own stories. They remind me of my people: my mother, my grandmother, my daughters, my brothers and sister, my husband. And yes, I realize I have told the most stories about rings, which we do NOT have on the line… yet! The collection is inspired by the pieces I’ve worn the most over the years… the things that always deliver and add that last bit of chic. Some are understated and some are just remarkable enough that looking in the mirror is a delight.
The pieces we are making are fine enough to wear forever and to pass along to whoever you love. Beautiful, simple, timeless. Some started out sentimental to me, but they are ready to take on your own story. We split it up in nearly equal parts gold and silver because my own collection contains both. There are simple chains. Sweet silhouette charms, both a boy and a girl, that feel kind of retro and timeless at the same time.
Ann + Sidney
Sid and I both have matching silhouettes of ourselves, probably made the exact same year. 1966, maybe. My mother made mine as a craft when she led Cub Scouts and practiced with us at home before the troop came to the house. She stood each little boy next to the wall, cast a shadow with a flashlight, and traced. Was it a Mother’s Day project? Who knows where Sid’s came from, but they are hung side by side in our house today. I had a boyish haircut so we look pretty similar. His has a typical boy cowlick and mine has my mother’s nod to femininity: extraordinarily long eyelashes.
my Elizabeth wearing the boy silhouette with her own boy — this picture makes me cry
Another sentimental piece is the triple-heart charm copied after one I’ve had since I was 14. I’ve spent my whole life holding them when I was nervous, hands at my neck feeling their smooth shapes. I don’t remember where they came from — were they a gift? Did I save up for them myself? — but they have thousands of hours on them. The cross pendant is very special. Of course a cross is classic, but when we chose it with our maker in Italy, I thought it looked like something I’d seen at the Matisse Chapel in Vence. A little modern and organic looking. But when I Googled to verify this, I came up empty. Nothing in the stained glass, no paintings, no vestments, no wooden crosses. You see? I made my own memory. Even if it’s not totally true, it is no less special. Hard to imagine a more humble and glorious place and I love being reminded of it.
snapshots in silver and gold
There are simple hoops for your ears… and some that are just different enough to merit space in your jewelry box. A pair of squares, some twisted ones. An ID bracelet that is perfect for any message you can dream up. Sid gave me a kind of crazy one before we got married — oversized with SIDNEY written in a big trophy-style font. ANN I LOVE YOU is engraved on the inside. It is so special to me. We made a more delicate, petite version too. And in the same chunky 80s style as the classic ID, we have a classic chain-link necklace and bracelet, adjustable with the toggle to any length you like.
There is a silver disc looped around Liberty Fabric cord — perfect for your initials or a longer message, but equally cool just left blank. I wear mine like a lariat but you can simply tie it to the length you prefer: doubled as a choker, long like a pendant. We made the same thing with a rectangle charm that was intended for the wrist but is kind of whimsical and fresh around the neck. I have been wearing my daughter’s initials from a proto we made over a decade ago. My point with all of this is that there are no rules. My initials, your initials, your dog’s initials. Inscribe anything you wish and it will become as special as you want it to be.
all 6 of us
We did a little photo shoot for the collection with all my girls… one more sentimental thing. The collection felt so personal that it felt like the right way to roll it out. I wrote years ago in 2020 about the progressive disease that two of my daughters have. At the time I shared this, they were just beginning to decline… but their condition, hereditary spastic paraplegia, is neurodegenerative and has progressed a lot in the years since. They have lost the ability to walk and now need an enormous amount of care. The lovely men on the crew happily scooped them up out of their wheelchairs and dropped them into the pile of sisters for the group shots. When I look at the pictures, I see beauty and joy and the delight of the day. Yes, they have changed physically. We all do and some more than others. But just like a photograph, jewelry can live on exactly as it was made forever. The gold or silver chain that remains the same even as you age (I have one that I never take off.) The cross that may give you hope… a trio of hearts as worry beads… the St. Christopher medal for your travels… a silhouette to mark the amazing gift of a child born to you or someone you love. This jewelry is timeless and ageless. Generational. So treat yourself. Make a memory… and pass it on.
