First, you must inhale

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Smokers tell me that the only way to not get addicted is to never pick up a cigarette.  Looking at cigarette ads in print or on film won’t get you addicted. Even growing up around smokers won’t necessarily get you hooked. First, you must inhale.  I confess I did try smoking–sorry Mommy & Daddy–when I was clubbing in my very early 20s, but either those YSL cigarettes (yes, there is such a thing as a designer cigarette!) were mere props or I just didn’t inhale enough to get addicted. Luckily I quit before I even started. Too bad I can’t say the same about my addiction to jewelry. Actually, it’s more of an affliction, to my budget. Self-ornamentation does not come cheap.

 

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But I’m an equal opportunity voyeur when it comes to bling. There’s no pearl, diamond, or gemstone unworthy of a second look in my book. People may notice handbags or shoes on someone, but my radar always closes in on the jewelry first. It can be costume jewelry (such as this Chanel piece in my photographs today) or of Harry Winston caliber. It can be a trinket in a sale bin at a local Banana Republic store or the Hope Diamond on display at the Smithsonian.

 

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It doesn’t matter the pedigree or price or design.  Whether it’s mined from the universe…or made in the other universe better known as China . If it’s within my periphery, I am all over it.

 

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So where am I going with this blog today? It’s hopefully a kickoff to other blogs that will feature whimsical designs from around the world. As much as I love designing my own jewelry, which so far only my mom has been brave enough to wear, I take greater delight in other people’s imagination.

 

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I understand the excitement sparked by inspiration that comes at the oddest of moments (while washing dishes at a friend’s apartment in London or playing with a lost puppy on Cat Ba Island), followed by the aggravation of wrangling with wires and stones as you try to mold thought into wearable art.  But when it’s done, the thrill never leaves you.  And with a little bit of luck, the person who wears it feels a little bit more special.

 

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I received my first real strand of pearls in my teens from my parents for some milestone event. You might say that’s when I became afflicted with the jewelry addiction.  I inhaled.  And have not yet exhaled.

 

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