Aunt Bling Bling

I'm staring at my twinkly, gorgeous bracelets here tonight. I shamelessly bought them a few years ago, overpriced, when my daughter-in-love flashed a picture of them to me. She knew I couldn't resist.

 I have a problem. I love jewelry. I justify this obsession with the fact that nothing I own is actually valuable, except my wedding ring. It started long ago, when I realized that less is definitely not more and that wearing only small pieces of jewelry was a perfect waste of a life. So I had a second perforation punched up past my regular hole and moved my little earrings up that away. That's nothing these days, with people putting orifices all up in their ears, noses, belly buttons and who knows where. But my sister thought I'd gone wild. She actually said that. I told her it was a good thing I was saved because who knows what else I'd do, given such crazy inclinations. I had entirely too many earrings to only wear one pair at a time.

My compulsion started with a small jewelry box, then spread to a drawer. Then four drawers. I finally caved and started hanging necklaces on a large shoe rack on my door. So I not only have a chest dedicated to this, I have a closet. Anyone who loves me knows what I really want. And you better go big or go home. Any trip that I take with my husband requires at least one shopping jaunt. If the jewelry selection is sub-par, you can forget a return trip. St. Simons Island is the bomb. They have silver by the bucketload there.

My maternal grandmother had this disease too. She used to let me sift through her costume jewelry and try everything on. She had a huge double chest of drawers solely dedicated to it. Then a walk-in closet for her shoes and another for her formals. That was just the guest room. We were not allowed into the inner sanctum of the master bedroom. There's no telling what magic was in there. I can still smell her Tigress perfume and see her green cat eyes with the brown specks in them. She loved Hawaii. One time, I asked her, "Hasn't Hawaii become really commercialized now, though?" She said, "Yes! That's why I love it!" She'd go, and come back toting another trunkload of jewelry. She was otherworldly to me and I miss her a sight.

Now I have four granddaughters of my own. Sometimes they ask to put on a necklace or put my silly eyeglasses on. My 28-year-old daughter and I share different pieces. When my sister has a special event, I drag her to the mall and we pick out a dress and matching jewelry. I actually avoid Merle Norman because there's a siren named Brighton in there that hypnotizes and robs me blind every time. All the accouterments are superfluous -- the makeup, jewelry, hair, pretty clothes -- they are decorations that are not even skin deep. What's inside and in the heart are what really matter. But like Dolly Parton says, "Any old barn can use a new coat of paint." And girl, it's just plain fun to be a woman.