I am obsessed with jewelry. Absolutely smitten by glittering, sparkling gemstones, my self-control vanishes as I hand over my hard-earned money in exchange for a little treasure. But I never expected my fetish for jewels would lead me to buy my own engagement ring. Especially since I’m not engaged.
Let me explain. On a recent visit to Sydney’s central business district, I was window-shopping at some of my favorite jewelers, pausing to admire the unaffordable items I could easily imagine adorning my fingers, my ears, my neck. I found myself in the Strand Arcade where I wandered casually past a store I’d previously browsed a few months before.
And then I saw it.
The Ring. It was breathtaking. Just sitting among the many other riches, teasing me to try it on.
So I did, really just to amuse myself. But as I slipped that sparkler onto my finger, time seemed to stop as it does in movie cliches. My heart was beating so fast and I felt as if I was going to be sick.
Crazy right? But I knew I had found my dream engagement ring. It was not how I’d imagined it to look — far from it. In the words of Kath and Kim, it was noice, different and unusual. The owner of the store sensed my instant infatuation and, not surprisingly, encouraged me to buy it. But first, I had to convince my boyfriend.
Yes, I do have a boyfriend. Jason and I have been together close to twelve years — we don’t live together but we’ve spent many weeks at a time living in close quarters travelling the world, but we are certainly not engaged.
We’ve spoken about marriage many, many times and we are both confident that’s where we are heading. However as a close friend sarcastically put it, we clearly don’t want to rush things.
One thing I’ve drilled into him over the years is how important it is for me to choose my own engagement ring. The thought of someone else picking what should be a woman’s most treasured piece of jewelry is something I cannot fathom.
He’s always been happy with this — relieved actually, as it takes the pressure off, especially when he’s not a jewelry person. Inconceivable, I know!
So in preparation for the day when we do decide to marry, I have thousands of ‘ring-spiration’ photos on Pinterest. I happily waste hours browsing the site, pinning the jewels which I imagine being turned into my very own engagement ring. I have photos of modern rings, Art Deco rings, Victorian rings, Edwardian rings, royal gems and the occasional celebrity bling. Elegant decadence is definitely my style.
Back to The Ring. Thankfully, Jason was nearby so soon after texting him “before we leave the city, you have to come and look at something. I’m not joking”, he was walking towards me through the Strand.
I was so nervous and was frantically thinking of how the hell to sell this to him. My mind was filled with an image of a bridezilla-to-be, one of those awful women who give their boyfriends ultimatums, so desperate they are to walk down the aisle.
I am not, and did not want to appear as, one of those women. Yes, I have a pretty clear idea of what my wedding dress will one day look like, but I am not in a hurry to marry.
But as Jason met me in the middle of the Strand, I delicately reminded him how I’ve always wanted to choose my own ring, either design it or magically stumble across The One. And I explained, that’s exactly what’s just happened.
As expected, he was clueless as to what I was trying to get at. So I said it nice and clear, “I found my engagement ring. I know we are not engaged, but I can’t leave without it … I don’t want to force you to propose, but this is The Ring”.
To my intense relief Jason saw through my emotional rambling about how I was not insisting he get down on bended knee in the midst of Saturday shoppers and calmly assured me that yes, we would one day marry and that if this was the one, it should be mine.
As amazed as I was, I still felt like a pushy wife-wannabe so in honor of self-respect, I put the ring on lay-by using my money for the deposit. I have an engagement ring and am now waiting for the proposal.
I have since given Jason the receipt and therefore custody of the lay-by, to take out when he’S ready.
Although I am happy to share this unconventional story, the ring itself will remain secret until the moment comes to unveil its beauty to loved ones.
But my finger is itching … I feel like Gollum from the Lord of the Rings, waiting for My Precious to take pride of place on my left hand. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, right?
This article originally appeared on News.com.au.
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