The Oyster’s Autobiography

“A woman needs ropes and ropes of pearls.” —Coco Chanel

Here is a thing you may not know about me: I have a history with pearls. I inherited one of my grandmother’s imitation pearl bracelets when I was eleven, and even though the creamy paint is chipping off the pearl-shaped beads, I treasure it and wear it anytime I need a bit of luck.

My parents bought me my first set of real pearls when I turned sixteen, and they sit in a place of honor in my closet, safe in their gold-leaf velvet-lined box for me to admire whenever I feel the need.

Not being into diamonds, blood or otherwise, I’ve filled my embarrassing secret Pinterest board with dozens of photos of pearl and opal engagement rings. (Really, I just don’t “get” diamonds. Why are they such a thing?)

And almost every day, I finish my getting-ready routine by slipping on one of my mother’s old rings, a simple gold band topped with a single pearl. (She may or may not know that I’ve “borrowed” it from her jewelry box.)


Continue reading

Makeup Monday: My First Real Post! And a top secret project

So far in my life, only four people know about this blog: myself, my partner, and two of my close friends. I think I’m keeping it that way on purpose for now, to see if I can really make a go of this. I don’t want to send out links to everybody and show off my promising first post only to poop out on it later. I want people who find this blog to feel like they’ve really found something. Does that make sense? I mean, it worked for Julie & Julia, right?

But in the meantime, I have a blog to run, even if only three other people know about it. And, somewhat foolishly, my chosen topic tonight happens to be something that I don’t want to share with one of those three people. Fortunately, she is getting married in less than five days, so I doubt she’s doing much in the blogosphere at the moment. But just to be safe: if your name is Dana and you are getting married on Friday, please do not click the “Read more” link below. Thanks, lovey love!

The aforementioned Dana

If this is you, go away.

Continue reading