Looking forward to Mother's Day! AND - Elizabeth Taylor's 1st piece of Jewelry

You know, you always hear stories of how little girls used to wear their mother's pearls, make up and heels?  Looking back, oh gosh, I never did.  Mom wore very little jewelry or make up - and I certainly didn't appreciate heels until I was in highschool (by then Mom and I were the same shoe size, so I just wore her's).  

One of my happiest memories was riding on the vespa with Mom.  My siblings had already started school so I had Mom all to myself.  We would cruise around on her blue vespa, and occasionally go pick up some noodles for lunch.  I would stand in front of the seats, feeling the wind hitting my forehead (I was barely tall enough to clear the dashboard), and then see the noodle soup wrapped in plastic bags swing back and forth on the handle bars - just brushing by my cheeks...  Thinking back, it sounded so dangerous - what was my mom thinking?!  But we had so much fun, so much fun.  I love you Mom <3

Gold plate and colored stone brooch
circa 1965

I was reading Elizabeth Taylor's memoir a while back, and she talked about this brooch - it was such a sweet memory.  As a child, she secretly saved up all of her allowances (50 cents per week) for months to buy this brooch for her mom for Mother's Day.  It was her mother's most valued possession, and when she passed she left it for Elizabeth.  Isn't that just precious?

Love,

Seimi

Taylor, Elizabeth. My Love Affair with Jewelry. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2002

Jewelry Memory: Golden bracelet and WWII amulet trade

I received a super sweet email today for a talk that my Art History professor at NYU is giving next week.  This brought back so many amazing memories for the archeological dig I participated a few years back in Cyprus (see the project site!).  It was the summer of a lifetime, and I am determined to make my way back to the lovely West End Hotel in the near future.  Western Cyprus is so beautiful.

For a variety of reasons, I can't share pictures of Cyprus.
This is from the same summer, in Greece (just a hop, skip away)!

Anyway, so I've had this amulet for years now, it's sitting on the top of my fireplace at home:

Sorry about the shadows and poor picture quality.  Took this quickly on my phone.

And this post is the story of how this amulet came into my possession.

The first thing you have to know, is that our archeological excavation is on an island.  It is about 10 minutes by boat off the most western tip of Cyprus.  And then you should know that the team consisted of mostly girls (in my year).  Our professor hired a nice man who goes by the name "Yannis" - and he spoke very little Greek.  And I, still, speek mediocre Greek at the very best.  I'm pretty sure I only know how to say "Good Morning," "Yes," "No," and "Good night."  Oh and "Cheers" or whatever they mean when people clink glasses together at dinner.  The Greeks are very serious about their wines.

Yannis was a very interesting man.  He'd fought in WWII for the Soviet Union/ Russia.  I had no idea why he was living in our little town, or how our professor came about to hire him.  But he was with us, in our trenches, since day one.  He helped carried the dirt over to our dirt pile, and did other labor-intensive tasks.  

When we first met him, he ate with his hands, and didn't speak unless he was spoken to.  And even that, he was a man of few words.  Few Greek words, that is.  He often rambled in Russian while we were digging at our trenches.  My Russian - like my Greek - consisted of a few simple terms like "Thank you," "Yes," "No," and "You're welcome."  I think it is fair to say that I'm not that gifted with languages. 

One day, one of the few days left in our season, we all piled onto the little fishing boat that would take us to the island.  It was just like any other ordinary morning, except that we were facing waves that were stories high.  I very timidly stepped into the fishing boat with my trench mates, praying the hardest I've ever prayed.  

--- The thing is, I don't know how to swim.  And even though we were close to the harbor, I wasn't sure that if our boat had capsized, I would be able to make my way back to shore.

I must have looked terrified.  Yannis sat across from me, and he pulled out the amulet from his chest.  This is the same amulet that he talked about all season - how he kept it with him throughout the battles and how the amulet, stained with blood, had kept him safe.  He placed the amulet very gently in my hands.

Stravos, the inn keeper, drove down to the harbor in time and made us turn our fishing boat around.  It would be impossible to go to the island today, and he insisted that we not take the risks.  Minutes later, we were back on dry land.  

I was still trembling when I stepped off the boat.  But I quickly turned to Yannis and thanked him for his kindness - and to return his amulet.  But he looked at me straight in the eyes and signaled that the amulet was a gift, and it was mine to keep.  I stuttered and didn't know what to do with such a precious and personal amulet.

    

At the time, I owned a golden bracelet.  It was from my Dad, and I had never removed it since I received the gift when I was 12.  I left home - to whole different continent - for college, and it was comforting to wear the bracelet and think of my family.  

I found Yannis at the make-shift church in the afternoon, lighting a votive candle.  And with my best Greek/ Russian/ (mostly) English mix, I removed my bracelet and placed it gently in his hands.  It was the most valuable possession I owned, and it was the only thing I could think of that came close to matching his great intentions.  Yannis wore the bracelet for the remainder of the season, until I finally left the West End Hotel.

The amulet is one of my most treasured possessions.  Yannis' act of kindness at that desperate moment made an enormous impression on me - and for that, he will always be my hero.

Love,

Seimi 

Jewelry Memory: Jade bangles

When Misha and I first started talking about creating this blog, we came up with different childhood memories where jewelries played a big part.  One in particular feels especially special.


Our mom, like many Chinese women, was gifted a jade bangle from her mother as a sign of blessing.  Here's the thing about jade bangles: you don't see many women wearing jade bangles today, or 15 years ago when my mom wore it.  The reasoning is very simple: A bangle fabricated out of a brittle gem like jade is impractical on many different levels.


But the most inconvenient part is, these bangles are meant to squeeze through your hand and stay on your wrist.  


My mom's jade bangle was very pale, unlike my grandmother's, which has a very vibrant green shade.  And for as long as I could remember, she's tried to remove it unsuccessfully.  No amount of soupy water or lotion could ease the one-half of the handcuff off her wrist, and as a result, she had to learn to move around more slowly and gracefully.  Until one day.


I don't remember how it happened exactly.  But she most likely was in the bathroom, trying to turn off the faucet or doing some other mundane task, and had gently banged her wrist against the bathtub.  And just like that, the jade bangle broke in half.


We'd just came back from school and was eating in front of the TV.  My mom walked in with the two broken pieces of the bangle and started looking for glue, tape, anything to attach the pieces back together.  Mom, who's famous for showing very little facial emotion, was visibly upset.  


For the rest of my childhood, my mom kept the pieces of the jade bangle in a red silk pouch inside the drawer of her bedside table.  Through the multiple times we've moved, and the different furniture that we acquired, it has stayed as a constant fixture.  


I don't think she particularly liked the bangle, but she'd held on to the broken pieces for years.  From time to time I would catch her piecing the two together and could only guess at her thoughts.  


What are some of the stories in your jewelry box?

Love,

Seimi