Though, like many (most) women, I’ve always loved interesting jewellery and clothes, I was never comfortable with saving to buy expensive things, only to be scared to wear them for fear of losing them. So, I’ve always cared more about the design of jewellery than the raw materials. I can happily wear shells, wood, glass, and even plastic if the design is unique and well-finished.
As a teenager, my mother would never let me buy polki or uncut diamonds beyond a certain value, as she, like many others in this country, believed that jewellery should have a resale value. This only added fuel to my constant state of rebellion, making me yearn for beautifully designed polki aads, raani haars, tikkas, naaths, kangans, and matha pattis.
But, for someone who always has her eyes open for unusual trinkets, it’s been very difficult to find exquisitely designed yet affordable jewellery. I’ve spent hours in gold shops trying to convince the owner to make my design of choice in silver or brass, only to receive a stern “no, we don’t do that kind of work” as though it was below them – I never understood it.
In the same vein, I’ve always liked things handmade, where I can share a personal connection with the karigars, including their family, their kids, their homes, their methods of working, and so on. There’s a personal joy in knowing that your jewellery had a hand in giving its maker a better standard of life, saving them from profiting middlemen and big business houses.