Definition: BLING

If you know me or my blog, you know that I have a... few.... obsessions.  Those are the ones to which I will admit.  You will find others between the lines.  If you find them, I will probably deny it.  Some things are better left unsaid.

Among those things I readily admit is a love of bling, specifically costume jewelry.  I love the stuff.  Flowers or beads, my newest acquisition--a sterling mosaic butterfly, ropes and chains, bracelets and watches, pins and earrings, chunky or dainty, antiquish or moderno--it doesn't matter.  I am unable to walk into a craft show or flea market without stopping at the jewelry display.

My daughter-in-law-to-be introduced me to All That Glitters last winter.  The breath was knocked out of me as soon as I entered those shimmering doors.  Imagine this, if you will (Men, don't give up. Give your lady something from here.  If she doesn't want it, I'll give you a P.O. number to send it to.).  You enter a well-lit small store. There are three aisles at least fifty feet long  with curio shelves, racks and fabric-covered tables.  Each table has tray after black-velvet covered tray of shiny, sparkly, classy jewelry.  There are cz's and stones, silver and gold, jet and pearl, every color under the sun and some you didn't think existed.  My littlest granddaughter, not quite a year at the time, was mesmerized.

I get all choked up when I enter.  Around and around I walk, touching every ceramic bead, every silken scarf, every metallic flower.  I imagine being in a tub filled with all this glittering glory.  The "I WANT" gene kicks in.  I am hooked. It's costume, so it is affordable. It is beautiful.  It is glamorous.  It is sexy.  My heart pounds as I lift a delicate cascade of white flowers.  I hold them to my throat. They dip to wherever.  The earrings dangle,  a pale pink jewel as the center of each blossom.  I covet.  I buy.  I wear.  Men, women, children ask where I found it.  It is a success.

Husband orders me to stay out of there.  (Yeah, right.)  He says I certainly don't need more jewelry (then why do you buy it for me, sweetie?).  His eyes take in the butterfly.  Even Hubby is impressed.

You already know I am an attention junkie.  Trust me, this jewelry begs for attention.  I just follow it along.   I have been called a show-off.  Hey, not fair!  I need every piece of bling to muster up the courage to show off even a little.

I come by this love of bling honestly.  My mother had a toolman's chest, the one with all the little plastic drawers, filled with costume treasures.  My aunt did the same, having a four-drawer bureau and several boxes filled to the brim.  I only have a .....few....boxes.   You are insatiable! says Hubby.  Could be, I reply.  You are spoiled! says a friend.  Go for it! says another.

I don't know who coined the word "BLING".  I don't care.  It is a perfect description.