Pearls of Wisdom

It's almost Valentine's Day, and while I won't be getting anything shiny or sparkly this year from Jared, The Galleria of Jewelry or Kay Jewelers ("Every kiss begins with Kay"), I have been thinking about the pearls of my past. Here they are, along with random beauty/broken heart/big goal quotes from the people who brought them into my life:

The pearl among pearl onions. Before my parents got engaged, my father got my mother an elegant, simple gold ring with a single pearl nestled snugly on top. It was so lovely--and it wasn't until last year that I learned from my Dad that he bought it in a pawn shop. When I was a girl, the pearl popped out. My mother found the tiny sphere in the crisper. Sadly, after she died and my Sis had the ring, a cat burglar broke into her Upper East Side apartment and stole it. Mom quote: "Only wash your hair once a week, so the oils can build up. And put lemon juice on it and sit in the sun to bring out blonde streaks."

The pearl in the bottle of Prell shampoo. Remember it? If I close my eyes, I can still smell that fresh, clean fragrance and see the thick green shampoo in the hourglass bottle. (In fact, I'm going to see if I can buy some tomorrow, in store on online, as a beauty valentine to myself.) For a while, Prell put a pearl in each bottle. I think that if you collected a certain number, you could mail them in for a necklace. Since I associate sharing this shampoo experience with my Sis, here's a quote from her: "He's so stupid he barely knows how to breathe." [Said when I was in high school, and she came back from the Peace Corps after two years and I reported being heartbroken over a boy. These words were amazingly helpful because they really made me laugh. I remember exactly where we were when she said them--walking out of church on Sunday.]

My Aunt C's pearl choker. She left it for me in her will. I was incredibly touched when it came by FedEx from Connecticut last winter. It was a strange feeling, as though Aunt C were gifting me from the Beyond. And seeing something in me that maybe I can't see in myself--like that her heirloom pearls are safe with me, belong with me, or should be worn by me. I'm not sure, but I think they may be the pearls she wore in her 1960s wedding portrait. I have yet to get the choker extended to fit me, but I will. Quote: "Since when did you start wearing your hair like that?" [I guess she didn't like the clip-on-top-of-the-head style. My aunts could be very blunt sometimes.]

The "Tin Cup" pearl necklace from H. I really do love the fine gold chain interspersed with perfect pearls. He gave it to me one Christmas, I think. Quote: There are too many to remember. Most don't have to do with beauty. Many have to do with goals and dreams. The latest: "Find your zen in 2010."


Tonight he, Fig and I met some friends in the city. While I was waiting for them to get the car, I stood on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 27th Street and looked uptown, admiring the Empire State Building's ladylike wrap of pale and dark pink light. How lovely and how luminous. The perfect pearl on the city's skyscape.