In the jewelry business, the term “costume jewelry” is an all embracing one that covers jewelry made from base metal, glass, plastic or whatever. As time and taste dictate, its appearance is “free style”. That is, it may range from a complete flight of fancy that capitalizes on the medium being worked to an imitation of “fine jewelry” (jewelry crafted in noble metals). Unlike the flights of fancy, however, it is the imitations that often drive people through our doors – with questions. And if the most commonly asked question is, “Is this real?”, questions of value are seldom far behind. As with most things, the value of jewelry offered in the secondary market is demand driven. If your eyes are starting to glaze over in boredom, allow me to illustrate.

My older son is his great-grandfather Hurst’s namesake; so the railroad watch great-grandpa carried as a section chief on the old “Frisco” road has been passed on to him. More than a century old, it has immense emotional content for a family member; but a collector (who else would buy an old watch?) would most likely spurn it as it has neither the cachet of rarity nor any appreciable intrinsic value. It is a large, open faced “potato” of a watch with a nickel plated case of negligible value. At some time (long before I ever saw it) it has been dropped, so its porcelain dial is chipped and cracked. Though it runs (amazingly well), its humble character consigns it to a small market value. In like manner, much of the veteran jewelry brought to us has negligible market value, particularly simulated pearls.

When, in the late 19th century, René Lalique looked at the demand for pearls as compared to the price they commanded, it was clear to him that there was a market for a good simulant. He set to work and came up with a technique for coating beads in a mixture of ground fish scales suspended in shellac. The resulting simulants looked like enough like pearls to sell like hot cakes over the next eighty years or so; but there was a fatal flaw in their composition. With continuing exposure to the atmosphere, shellac darkens as it ages; so over time the simulant’s hue would continue darkening into a range of uninspired colors never found on natural or cultured pearls – most commonly, brown. Passed down through inheritance, it is these oxidized beads most often brought to us for some purpose, usually “cleaning” or restringing. When, as we must, advise that cleaning is not an option, there is almost always a “trash or treasure” moment occasioned by that loaded question, “How much are they worth?” It is the rare person who can accept “nothing” as an answer without flinching; and owing to their emotional connection to the beads, many reject the evaluation outright – most in grief, some in rage. Only an unquestioned provenance into an historic event or personage can offer (through the collector market) any hope that grandma’s “pearls” have value; and so it is with most costume jewelry, particularly that designed by Coco Channel.

Oh, “paste” imitations of more expensive pieces were common among the upper crust of the wealthy; but they were a dirty little secret. Until Coco burst into the world of Parisian fashion (shortly after the end of World War I), costume jewelry just didn’t exist. So when, with the brashness of her youth, she designed and offered for sale a whole collection of big, flashy “faux” jewels, it set the world of fashion on its ear. Her metal of choice, antimony, had a lot stronger connection to the printing business than to the world of jewelry. Cast like type from a linotype machine, it was meant for quantity production. “Need a gold color? Plate it. Want it set with a large ‘emerald’? Cast one in glass;” and as her success as a clothing designer grew, a whole new business, the costume jewelry business grew and prospered. Of course the metal didn’t last; but women almost always saved the “gems”, thus bringing them into the inheritance “cycle” and more of those “trash or treasure” moments with us.

Fine jewelry is just that. It needs no apologies, no explanations; everything is in its content – so you need to get it right. To say “I love you” gems need to arrest the eye with their beauty. To say that love is enduring, the piece of jewelry needs to be meticulously crafted in precious metal; and to say that beauty and craftsmanship abound is absurd. Most “fine jewelry” is price driven and its quality, in some aspect, is usually compromised. For jewelry without compromises, you must see us. Our diamonds are Hearts On Fire, the world’s most perfectly cut; and we source the jewelry for our glorious diamonds from a small and exclusive group of craftsmen who never compromise on quality. So if you need an important diamond gift, check out our collection on line at hurstsberwynjewelers.com; then phone us at 708.7887.0880 for an appointment to select that bit of starshine, that immaculate diamond beauty that will say “I love you” as no gift has ever before. We’re Hursts’ Berwyn Jewelers, your personal jeweler; and we’ll help you realize your dreams.