Pearls beyond price

Can you imagine a tiara constructed of real South Sea pearls? Queen Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to afford them. My twin pearl swans didn’t cost that much but they are priceless indeed.

For days I walked past the cabinet containing these works of art, giggling to myself every time. There were cute little pigs, puppy dogs with floppy ears, and lonesome swans, but I was all eyes for this conjoined pair. They were brash and bold and fake; so kitsch that I had to have them.

They were brash and bold and fake; so kitsch that I had to have them.

But what on earth would I do with them? I had to ask myself, puzzled. Should they sit on a shelf at home madly gathering dust until one day I try – and fail – to fob it off onto one of my nieces (none of them are young enough anymore)? But then a brilliant inspiration seized me… By rights, they ought to feature on these pages in some incarnation or other, and that was when I suddenly struck on their true raison d’être: a tiara!

So here they are, immortalised.

Bags might fly

The prodigal princess has returned from her jaunterings abroad at last, excess baggage in tow as usual!

Owing to the mad rush in which I organised this trip, I spent at least two days too many in Saigon, as I was unable to alter my itinerary. After a tangential trip to the Mekong Delta and various Saigon city tours, what to do? Shop, naturally.

The result can be seen in this new bag stuffed with all sorts of Vietnamese goodies: a silk brocade kimono; a custom-tailored ao dai; fanciful beaded slippers; an armful of jade and wooden bangles and sundry rings; five silk cushion covers; an antique, ceramic water smoking pipe; two bags of coffee; a number of hand-embroidered and other ethnic garments (must support those rural cottage industries); a Dr Seuss hat, silk belt and necklace from Hang Nga Crazy House in Dalat; and presents galore. You might say I went a bit crazy myself.

Two days before I was due to leave I thought I should check if everything would fit into my bag.

It couldn’t possibly.

After a tangential trip to the Mekong Delta and various Saigon city tours, what to do? Shop, naturally.

The last straw was an adorable round cushion made of lilac, pink and olive shades of woven silk that I simply had to buy. Not a cushion cover, you understand. An actual cushion. What was I thinking?

I decided the only thing to do was to make one more purchase: another bag. I would stuff it full with all my shopping and carry it on the plane. (The round cushion was jammed into my checked baggage and made the bag look rather plump, but at least I was under my weight limit.)

I felt a little conspicuous on board – until I saw one Frenchwoman blithely disembarking with an enormous lightfitting dangling from one hand. At least that’s what it looked like, with coloured cylinders poking out of paper packaging. I can't imagine how she fit it into the overhead baggage compartments.

I had to laugh. I thought then I’d never worry about excess baggage again: all you need to carry it off is an air of insouciance.

My pretty patent chopines

I had a very bad beginning to my Easter, so instead of chocolate, I rewarded myself with this pair of modern-day chopines by Zoe Wittner.

Chopine, possibly 1740s, Venetian, Silk cut velvet with gilt-metal lace trim and linen lining, silk satin ribbon, metallic woven trim, metal nails, wood, and leather. Ph: © Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.Nothing better to cheer me up than French toast with bacon and maple syrup in the company of a good friend, followed by a little browse (and purchase) in the Wittner factory outlet in East Richmond.

Made from deliciously soft and shiny leather, these little beauties are precariously high… which makes them perfect for me. It’s only flat shoes that give me blisters. As the leather wraps high on the instep – almost up to the ankle – they are quite supportive, but they look best with shorter length skirts or pants. I was wearing my pink velvet flares when I tried these on, and had to roll up the pant legs to my knees as I did the catwalk for my friend (and looked very fetching as you might imagine). That’s called buying shoes on faith!

…these little beauties are precariously high… which makes them perfect for me.

Turkish Woman with Slave, late 18th century Jean-Etienne Liotard © Musée d'art et d'histoire, Ville de GenèveI have not yet stomped them through the dirty streets and christened them like their antecedents, but I do love the chopine-style platforms. Chopines were originally worn to protect the shoes and dress from the dirty street; later they came to symbolise rank and wealth. The higher they were (and some rose to 20 inches), the more important was the wearer. Mine however are pure decoration, and certainly not so high as to inhibit my usual speedy gait.

Geta-inspired shoes, Alexander McQueen, 2007.Although today’s haute couture designers delight in shocking the press with extravagances of fashion, (see Alexander McQueen’s examples from 2006) there would be few women so determined to display their wealth and status they would be willing to risk life and limb. Leave that to the suckers – excuse me, models – on the catwalk.

Much simpler to wear a Cartier panthère brooch.

“Pashmina, pashmina?”

In a post a while back I mentioned the ubiquitous cry of merchants in the souqs of the Middle East: “Pashmina, pashmina?” I heard it wherever I went.

In actuality, although I already owned several that I had bought years ago, I was not hostile to the notion of purchasing a new one. I simply objected to having them foisted upon me as though I should be expected to buy one simply because I was a Western tourist.

I left it til late in my trip to take the plunge. Whilst trawling the upper floor of the fascinating Blue Souq in Sharjah, a striped red and white shawl hanging on a display in a doorway caught my eye. Accustomed to looking and walking on, I had already breezed past it before my steps slowed and I went back.

I was shown a large number of other striped pashminas, but none were as striking…

Entering the shop, I looked around, pretending to browse while the Indian merchants eagerly showed me their goods. They proffered a multitude of pashminas, before I finally admitted I was only interested in the red and white striped shawl that was folded over the ladder by the door. I was shown a large number of other striped pashminas, but none were as striking as the red and white cashmere shawl. I didn’t care about the fact it wasn’t pashmina, it was the graphic stripes that appealed to me.

I asked the price; I bargained him down; we struck hands. I can’t recall the exact price now, but it wasn’t inexpensive by any means. However, months later I absolutely adore it still and it goes many places with me, rolling up easily to fit in my handbag. So soft and warm, it is easily one of my most loved and used souvenirs.

A ring as fragile as love

This stone ring is my favourite piece of jewellery. It was given to me two birthdays ago by a man I loved. There is only one thing I adored more that he gave me, and I have not looked at it since the day I took it off.

Made of an apple-green stone on a sterling silver base, this dome-shaped ring is very fragile. And as much as I love it, every time I wear it I am filled with terror that I shall smash it.

We were wandering through the city one weekend and meandered into a little shop called Dittoday in Block Place, one of Melbourne’s delightful laneways. I saw this ring on a glass shelf and instantly fell in love with it. I was encouraged to try it on (just for fun) although I had no intention at all of buying it.

I saw this ring on a glass shelf and instantly fell in love with it.

As I admired the ring on my hand, turning it in the light, my former fiancé smiled and asked if I would like it for an early birthday present. My eyes must have lit up immediately because before very long the sales assistant was polishing it up carefully and ringing up a purchase.

She told me the ring was made from chrysoprase, a gemstone variety of chalcedony, and I should be very careful not to drop it as it could shatter. The faceted stone wraps around the sterling silver base, and is quite thick and heavy even at the thinnest part.

I felt it was such a treasure of a find. I’ve occasionally wandered back into that jewellery boutique, but I’ve never seen its like again, nor have I seen anything similar anywhere else. I’m glad to think I was given such a unique present, and so spontaneously (never a forte of his).

Now I look at it, and although it makes me a little sad, I wear it sometimes and guard it fiercely. I want the ring at least to last forever.

(L-R) Rough nugget; Chinese chrysoprase bead and sterling silver necklace by Ann Sheldon; cabochon; antique snuffbox; ‘Early Budding Vine’ sterling silver bracelet by Giftbearer; tumbled nuggets.

The bracelet can be bought at the Art Jewellery Collective, and the necklace from Ann Sheldon.