The fella, I've discovered over the years, hates diamond ads.
Really, really, hates diamond ads.
Every so often, an ad for Zales or some such diamond retailer will come on the TV, especially at this time of year. The Balabusta will usually not look up, because the Balabusta is not in the market for diamonds. The Balabusta has no money, and already owns a nice pair of cubic zirconia studs which work with 'classic, understated' outfits. Also, diamond ads are quite boring, usually only featuring heterosexual couples by open fires looking happily at one another. There is no snappy dialogue or pretty scenery.
The fella will go berserk. He rages at diamond ads, regarding them as a diabolical plot to convince men that love can and should be bought by the carat. He feels targeted and exploited. He shouts threats at the happy Zales customers on TV.
The Balabusta has tried to explain that he will never have to buy a diamond if he doesn't want one. She has explained that she loves the beautiful non-diamond jewelry he buys her. She has explained that should the fella and the Balabusta become engaged, she would not want him to spend money that could go for a nice wedding or a down payment, or groceries, on a diamond.
She has also explained that, should it ever come to buying a diamond, maybe a solitaire necklace when we are middle-aged and rich, the fella should be careful not to get African diamonds from iffy sources, and hold out for one with a nice serial number showing it came from a unionized Alaskan diamond mine staffed by happy elves.
None of this has helped much. He has a manic response to the whole diamond-ad thing. It is apparently genetic or something. Or perhaps requires therapy.
On the flip side of all of this, the Balabusta has an acquaintance who, when she got engaged, very much wanted a BIG ROCK to show off. She was twenty-four, the boy not much older, and an expensive engagement ring out of the question. But she wanted a BIG ROCK.
The Balabusta greatly admires the solution they came up with. They went to Imposters, or some such place, and bought a beautiful ring with an enormous, high-quality, fake diamond. It was a lovely, garish, piece, which would have cost a couple years' salary for the chassan if it had been real. The bride wore it with great pride, flashed it to squealing girlfriends (all of whom had been filled in on what it really cost) and was perfectly happy.
We should all be so smart about what we really want.
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1 comment:
I confess that I now love diamonds. When I was younger, I could not care less. I didn't have a diamond when I married. But I learned over time that I really, really like shiny things. Not bling, and not the status that bling brings, but I do like shiny things, just like the magpie/raven in Secret of Nimh.
When I am feeling down, I go online and look at sparklies, especially pink diamonds. Sometimes, I look at crown jewels from around the world, throughout history.
There is this awesome site that creates jewelry at your request- exquisite works of art.
Jewelry
And you are right, those prosaic ads don't remotely do justice to the glory of jewels and are meant to guilt you into buying. As for the fella, maybe you and he would feel differently if you saw the site above? :)
On the other hand, I am all for the practical! Meanwhile, middle age sounds like it would be a good time to go beyond that!
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