Tired of last-minute, sloppy shopping sprees? Done with forcing truckloads of dollars towards slot-fillers to compensate for poorly thought-out gift purchases? Well, luck be a billion-dollar industry hocking jewels these pre-Christmas nights. Now, this holiday you can show her you really love her. No, really. Unlike the other paltry 364 days of the year where you apparently were an insensitive, poor excuse of a partner/lover/husband/boyfriend showering her with trite "I love you"'s and small affectionate gestures from the heart.
Yawn.
Better option: Give 'em something dripping with white gold and karats. This year, buy her a diamond necklace. Better yet, a diamond necklace in the shape of a heart (those gem dealers think of everything!). Because just like your love, they're forever. And a steal at only $199.99 at Sears. Or DeBeers. Or Weisfield. Or Kay's. Or that sketchy diamond outlet store just off the freeway that sells everything at slashed prices (which now puts it only at a 100% markup).
Two weeks ago, strolling along the warf at a beach-side park, I passed a large wooden billboard plastered with safety precautions and ads for dog-walkers. Tacked in the middle read a sign decrying litter. "Plastic," it warned, "is forever."
It's fascinating this diamond craze hinges on the presumption that forever is preferable, as it apparently doesn't even have a corner on that market. Life in prison is forever. Dry rot is forever. Tattoos are also forever. My mother instilled that truism in me at a young age. "Never, ever, ever" she commanded, "Get a man's name tattooed on your body!" I gurgled and flung a spoonful of cheerios at her. And now, plastic it seems, can be added to the list.
Does anyone ever wonder 1) what makes a diamond resistant to destruction, and 2) if that is a good thing? Twinkies are practically forever and I'm pretty certain Hostess would be happier if we'd just forget about their Armageddon-friendly shelf-life. As a metaphor for love, does it make sense to use the hardest mineral substance found in nature? Just like your love, a diamond is forever...and cold. And hard. And can cut glass. No sir, no how...keep your stinkin' diamonds. This year I'm asking for plastic!
Yawn.
Better option: Give 'em something dripping with white gold and karats. This year, buy her a diamond necklace. Better yet, a diamond necklace in the shape of a heart (those gem dealers think of everything!). Because just like your love, they're forever. And a steal at only $199.99 at Sears. Or DeBeers. Or Weisfield. Or Kay's. Or that sketchy diamond outlet store just off the freeway that sells everything at slashed prices (which now puts it only at a 100% markup).
Two weeks ago, strolling along the warf at a beach-side park, I passed a large wooden billboard plastered with safety precautions and ads for dog-walkers. Tacked in the middle read a sign decrying litter. "Plastic," it warned, "is forever."
It's fascinating this diamond craze hinges on the presumption that forever is preferable, as it apparently doesn't even have a corner on that market. Life in prison is forever. Dry rot is forever. Tattoos are also forever. My mother instilled that truism in me at a young age. "Never, ever, ever" she commanded, "Get a man's name tattooed on your body!" I gurgled and flung a spoonful of cheerios at her. And now, plastic it seems, can be added to the list.
Does anyone ever wonder 1) what makes a diamond resistant to destruction, and 2) if that is a good thing? Twinkies are practically forever and I'm pretty certain Hostess would be happier if we'd just forget about their Armageddon-friendly shelf-life. As a metaphor for love, does it make sense to use the hardest mineral substance found in nature? Just like your love, a diamond is forever...and cold. And hard. And can cut glass. No sir, no how...keep your stinkin' diamonds. This year I'm asking for plastic!
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