growing a minimalist wardrobe: jewelry.

Giving people advice on their jewelry makes me feel like a little bit of a kill-joy. So, I’m not going to tell you what you should all adorn yourselves with. If turquoise and silver or platinum and diamonds are your favorite things, don’t let my thin golden-colored things lead you astray.

Still, jewelry boxes, like underwear drawers, have a way of getting out of control if left to their own devices. My particular fondess lies in jewelry that’s fairly minimal in design (see some of the sponsors of this space for good ideas), but regardess of the particular pieces in your collection, here are a few tips that have gotten me wearing jewelry that I love and clearing out the clutter.
Here’s the strategy:

1. Get rid of your jewelry box.
My jewelry box is the place where my jewelry went to die. Rather than housing a neatly curated collection of bits and baubles, my jewelry hunkered down in a stubborn tangle. The whole mess clung together like some kind of less-artful bird’s nest, lacking form and devoid of function. Unless, of course, the function was the extreme fine motor skill exercise I got anytime I actually endeavored to wear something. There was costume jewelry mixed with precious gems and tangled up with disintegrated friendship bracelets from elementary school.

Then there was the fact that the jewelry box I was using had wood inlay and a high gloss and—sorry, high school boyfriend—an insipid song that played when it opened. It had to go.

I got rid of the jewelry box and then set to work on the tangle, extracting anything that merited the physical endurance test that the task required, and tossing the rest. I was ruthless. You should be too.

2. Display your favorites.
I have a small porcelain dish on my dresser where I stash my most-worn jewelry. The dish was one of a pair (the other smashed into our bathroom sink—beware the hazard of cute porcelain dishes on cute porcelain sinks) that my mom found at an antique shop in my hometown. I’m afraid I can’t point you in their exact direction, though this treasure bowl or this small plate would make sweet alternatives.

I hang my few necklaces from my bedroom mirror. Were I to have more than a few necklaces, I’d probably move the collection to small nails on the inside of the closet, because: clutter.

3. Bag the rest.
For the special, heirloom-y kind of things that I don’t wear very often, but that I sometimes do, I have a special little zip up pouch which I also keep on my dresser. If you’re looking a special little bag to pop your “rarely-worns,” this one would be sweet.

A quick note on heirlooms: I could write a book on this subject alone, but here’s a quick thought or three. If there’s one thing that has a way of getting passed from one generation to the next, it’s jewelry. The simple fact is that our stuff outlasts us, and this is true of the good stuff and the not-so-good stuff.

The challenge is the tendency we mortals have to assign value to things once a loved one has passed away. This isn’t always a bad thing. I carried a dime around in my coat pocket for years after my grandfather passed away, because I’d found one in his coat pocket shortly before he died. It was worth precisely ten cents, but far more than that to 13-year-old me. But imagine for a minute what your descendants might think if they found your jewelry box—in its current state—years down the road. Likely not even you would deem every single thing in it worth keeping. And yet. I have a hunch that there are many (many) jewelry boxes lingering in closets filled half way with things that have both sentimental and actual value and half full of things that have neither. Consider it a favor to your great great grandchildren and do some of the sorting through yourself.

Here’s my philosophy: if there are pieces from your great great aunt/cousin/neighbor that you love, regardless of their monetary value, keep them. Even if you don’t wear them often. Tuck them into a small bag, designate a special spot for the them to live, and take them out once in a while and show them off. But if you’re saddled with a jewelry box full of things that you neither like, nor wear, consign them. Surely someone will want that bejeweled spider brooch.

In the back of my own underwear drawer, I have another little cloth bag with the highschool basketball pendant that belonged to my dad’s mom, and the filigree bracelet that belonged to my Aunt Ruth, and few other bits and bobs that I can’t part with. I wear these things even less than the crystals and pearls in that little zipped pouch, but I like knowing they’re there. Little talismans on hard days or good days or Thursdays.

For the curious, a few of my favorites:
this cuff ring.
this (similar) arrow ring.
these arrow earrings.
this range ring.
this amuletum.
this mini breast plate.
a bonbon (no longer in production).
a few good hoops.
{and something similar to my engagement ring.

Growing a Minimalist Wardrobe, STEP 1, STEP 2, STEP 3, STEP 4, and STEP 5. Not to mention, SHOES.