Many years ago I wrote a letter to Santa in two copies. Why two? asked my mother, curious. Well, I replied, one to send to Santa and one for me. When Santa brings the presents I will check against my copy- a doll? Check. A teddy? Check. A doll house? Check…
This year I wrote: Dear Santa. I write to tell you that I was very naughty and it was worth it. I will buy my present myself, thank you very much.
And with this in mind, I marched into Selfridges. I’m not telling you that I could find my way around the store even if all the lights went out because this would be equal to admitting an addiction, which I am certainly not going to admit. So no comment. But it was handy to know how to cut through the crowds congregating around Mac counter to emerge in a quiet blue corner.
There is something empowering about buying your own jewelry. I don’t mean that necklace from J.Crew or bangles at Topshop. I’m thinking about a real piece, something heavy in emotion and meaning.
It’s the piece that more than anything says “I’m a grown up. I bought it for myself because I wanted to and because I can afford to buy it. I bought it because I wanted to celebrate my achievement”.
It also says “this is who I am” more than any jewels bought for you by a man. Whether is a pair of diamond studs or that Tiffany bracelet (more of which later) it will fit into your life so seamlessly as if it was always there.
So when I saw that Tiffany T square bracelet, I promptly fell in love. I knew straight away- it will be THAT gift to myself. I will buy it when I’m celebrating a lifetime achievement. I don’t know when it’s going to be- maybe in two months maybe in four. And when it does come I will ask for the bracelet to be engraved with words: Never give up. Well done.
In the meantime, Christmas is not looking too bad in my new Stewart Weitzman Highland boots.