By Barbara Falconer Newhall
The long dress I was planning to wear to my son’s wedding needed earrings. Not a necklace. Not a bracelet. Not a glitzy ring.
My gown needed earrings. Big, attention-grabbing, dangle earrings that would draw the eye to my face and away from the wobbly upper arms and neck. Away from the slumpy upper back. Away from the excess around the belly.
I needed earrings with a presence.
For minute I thought, who am I kidding? Aren’t I a little old for splashy? But then I thought — twenty years from now, when I’m a bona fide old person, I’ll want to be able to look at Peter’s wedding photos and think, “Gosh. I cut quite a figure when I was young.”
To make that happen I’d need earrings.
I started the search in my own jewelry box. I love the little balls studded with Swarovsky crystals I once gave to my mother — which came back to me when she died. But they were way too tiny and modest to do the job.
Also in my jewelry box — a pair of ring-shaped earrings embedded with crystals. They were bigger and more eye-catching, but the gold setting would clash with the silver brooch stitched to the waist of my mother-of-the-groom gown.
Clearly this was a job for Shopper Barb.
No time to waste. Off I went to the jewelry counters of downtown San Francisco. Here’s what I found.
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