Word: ring
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...first had qualms about diamonds when I was about 10 or so. I remember holding my grandmother's hand and noticing that her wedding ring did not look like what I thought a ring should be. It was a large light blue stone. She couldn't even recall what kind and didn't seem to care. I asked her why she didn't have a diamond ring, and she replied that when she married my grandfather, people didn't give each other diamonds...
...married in the early 1940s, diamonds were for aristocrats and De Beers was only just beginning its marketing push for the middle class - one that still continues today. I'm paraphrasing, but the message is: If you really love her, you'll spend two months' salary on a ring; it's only true love if it's a diamond; like your love, a diamond is forever...
...When I realized that the tradition of the diamond ring stemmed from a very deft advertising campaign, I grew suspicious of their place in our society and their hold over young couples in love. After all, we were taught as kids that we should not go out and buy a Big Mac every time we saw a McDonald's commercial. So how did adults get so duped by the diamond industry's marketing that they thought they had to buy one or else their relationship wasn't worth it? To me, a diamond had become a giant gleaming commercialized cliche...
...When I was little, I remember holding my mom's hand and admiring her diamond engagement ring. I thought it was the prettiest stone I had ever seen and I really liked the way it sparkled in the sun. My mother loved it, and she often recounted how my father gave it to her. I guess he had bought into the marketing push because he had spent the two months' salary on the Tiffany setting. It was hard on them financially at the time but my dad said when he got down on one knee and my mom lovingly said...
...Then one summer when I was about 8 my mom took off her engagement ring to wash some dishes. After the kitchen was cleaned up, we went out for a walk on the beach with her friend Brenda and her 6-year-old daughter, Sally. When we returned my mom realized that her ring was gone. It wasn't in the sink, or down the drainpipe which my dad tore apart, or behind the counter tops. It wasn't in her pocket, or in the bedrooms...