When I got quasi-engaged, the first thing I said was, "I hate diamonds! Don't get me one!" I had just heard about all the slave labor associated with diamond mining and all I could see was blood when I saw those sparkling rocks.
As I've said on my blog last year sometime, I'm really hating the diamond industry's push to sell diamonds to single women (the "right hand diamond"). Gack.
Of course, my mother just got me gorgeous diamond earrings for my birthday and I LOVE them. Another episode of personal hypocrisy to chalk up.
I was aware of the human rights abuses when the CSO and I decided to get engaged. At the same time, I wanted a ring of some sort.
I ended up going to a jewelry store with the future Mrs. Linguist friend, planning to look at other gemstones.
I didn't see another gem I liked and was ready to go, but TFMLF was asking a long and complicated question about antique silver. (This was the sort of jewelry store where they loved questions about antique silver.)
Pretty much everyone in the store was talking to her and I was wondering around when I found the case of estate diamonds. And there was my ring. It was one of those irrational love-at-first-sight things.
And as my ring is getting close to 100 years old, it predates most of the issues surrounding diamonds today, though I doubt diamond mining conditions around the turn of the century were anything wonderful.
Still, I don't think I could have a diamond ring. I remember reading King Solomon's Mines as an adolescent, and crying. Which was pretty deep because I was never much of a crier. But when I even see a diamond, I associate it with so much destruction, that it is hard to want one, even if I do think they can look really beautiful. It's true that if it's antique at least one is not contributing to any new horrors.
If an antique diamond is ok, is an old fur coat also? I had one someone gave me even though it had belonged to her grandmother, long before anyone thought of PETA. She was scared to wear it.
4 comments:
I find it staggering that in the whole article, there's no mention of the monstrous human rights abuses connected with diamond mining. Wow.
http://www.fguide.org/Bulletin/conflictdiamonds.htm
When I got quasi-engaged, the first thing I said was, "I hate diamonds! Don't get me one!" I had just heard about all the slave labor associated with diamond mining and all I could see was blood when I saw those sparkling rocks.
As I've said on my blog last year sometime, I'm really hating the diamond industry's push to sell diamonds to single women (the "right hand diamond"). Gack.
Of course, my mother just got me gorgeous diamond earrings for my birthday and I LOVE them. Another episode of personal hypocrisy to chalk up.
I was aware of the human rights abuses when the CSO and I decided to get engaged. At the same time, I wanted a ring of some sort.
I ended up going to a jewelry store with the future Mrs. Linguist friend, planning to look at other gemstones.
I didn't see another gem I liked and was ready to go, but TFMLF was asking a long and complicated question about antique silver. (This was the sort of jewelry store where they loved questions about antique silver.)
Pretty much everyone in the store was talking to her and I was wondering around when I found the case of estate diamonds. And there was my ring. It was one of those irrational love-at-first-sight things.
And as my ring is getting close to 100 years old, it predates most of the issues surrounding diamonds today, though I doubt diamond mining conditions around the turn of the century were anything wonderful.
CC
The ring is beautiful.
Still, I don't think I could have a diamond ring. I remember reading King Solomon's Mines as an adolescent, and crying. Which was pretty deep because I was never much of a crier. But when I even see a diamond, I associate it with so much destruction, that it is hard to want one, even if I do think they can look really beautiful. It's true that if it's antique at least one is not contributing to any new horrors.
If an antique diamond is ok, is an old fur coat also?
I had one someone gave me even though it had belonged to her grandmother, long before anyone thought of PETA. She was scared to wear it.
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