I didn’t think I was a diamond jeweler. And yet my left anonymous has had a diamond wedding ring since the wedding, which is much more relevant to me than the ring given as a sign of the covenant. How did that happen?
Neither I nor my spouse had any ready-made vision for the wedding ring. There were only a couple of thoughts and wishes. I had a yellow gold ring in mind, as warm gold is the most precious metal for me, and in addition, my engagement ring is yellow gold. I also like the classic city of yellow gold in wedding rings. At some point, I thought the ring could very well be the kind of simplistic and traditional smooth yellow-gold backpack that my grandparents and, based on old black-and-white photos, of their parents, too.
The only thing that was certain was that we would not get a ring made of new materials. The world is full of beautiful jewelry without the wearer, and I love the idea that objects have had a life and a story even before me. If no meaningful old jewelry could be found on the bottoms of the drawers of relatives or friends or in antique shops, then it would be made by melting old jewelry into new ones. Oh, and I didn’t think of those diamonds in my rings either, not even recycled.
A couple of months before the wedding ring, I was the first to call my mom and dad, asking if they could find any old ring or other jewelry that could be turned into a wedding ring. It wasn't exactly what I guessed. Of my father’s jewelry, I remember mostly a clam strung on worn leather straps that he has held around his neck. I don't remember wearing even engagement or wedding rings.
It took a couple of days and I didn’t have time to think about ring matters any more. Then I got the message. It had a picture of my mother’s wedding ring, a yellow-gold ring with seven diamonds. My parents said they thought that when this ring isn’t even used properly, I would be the first to get it as my wedding ring if I wanted to.
Oh my God. At that moment, I became a diamond jeweler. My father and mother have exchanged a wedding ring decorated with diamonds as a sign of marriage at their Midsummer wedding on June 20, 1981 in the old church of Australia. Less than two years after that day, I was born. And now, 37 years after those Midsummer weddings, the ring was exchanged at the Helsinki November wedding as a symbol of marriage, with the original ring changers present at the wedding ceremony.
Before the new life stage of the ring, I went to cut it with a jeweler. At the same time, I enlarged my engagement ring, which has become small over the years. The task was taken care of by Folklore , whom I chose on the recommendation of my sister. Folklore's jewelry designer Tanja Ahjopalo makes unique jewelery using 100% recycled precious metals and stones at the customer's request. Now the old rings got under work, and with these rings, Tanja used the wedding ring to enlarge the engagement ring left over from the gold piece. Let's go smart!
The rings are maybe half the number too small - at my own request - because I hate the feeling when the rings seem to drip from my fingers. Now I can go swimming without any worries, even in November in the Baltic Sea with my rings, which was tested with a sauna brunch after the wedding party. In the wedding situation itself, threading a little too small ring was not an ethereally beautiful event, but I got to poem the ring myself, laughing at my finger. My paws had swelled all red after the wedding photography; the November outdoor air made the fingers freeze, and then as they entered the warm interior, the icy fingers swelled like soybeans on the grill. But yes, that ring to my anonymous then slipped, encouraged by the party guests.
While the wedding ring were resized to their wishes and cleaned, new engravings were made on the wedding ring. The carvings of my mother and father had to be taken away, as they were written wide across the length of the ring. However, according to the history of the ring, I also wanted the engravings. Now the ring has the first letters of my mother's and father's first names and the wedding day, followed by the first letters of my and my spouse's first names and the wedding day. It would be wonderful if I could sometimes give the ring again from generation to generation if it becomes so.
So my spouse and I got an even bigger and more amazing story in my wedding ring than we could have ever imagined. And still a little laugh at how my parents have chosen a diamond ring, as my mother is perhaps even less of a diamond jewelry type than I am. But as much as the everyday sense of the ring is chosen, its diamonds are inlaid. That you can race tractors, tamp carpets and pull woolen straps into your hands without getting stuck in diamonds.
In addition to the story of the ring, its history, and the love story it already recorded, I like its classic look, with its diamonds in everything. It fits perfectly with my engagement ring, no wonder. My parents have very similar engagement rings.
Namely, it happened there 17 years ago that my spouse and I walked to Vaovan Hovisep for engagement shopping - without realizing the same place as my parents had walked with their engagement in mind just over twenty years earlier. At least in those days, the ring selection was not renewed in vain, even though decades passed. Unconsciously, we chose exactly the same engagement rings as my parents - thin yellow - gold backpacks with pattern engraving.
The most absurd thing is that I was also given a black and white polaroid picture with my spouse of choosing The wedding ring, taken at the same dark wood table where my parents are sitting in their own engagement picture recorded by a jeweler in the 70s. The circle, or rather the backpack, closes