We’ve all seen those weddings on the big screen where the groom will toast the bride saying something like ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world, not many people can say they’re married to their best friend’. I don’t think it’s that uncommon really, and Rohan and I are best friends, and who do you talk to about exciting things you can’t keep to yourself – your best friend. So that’s how I ended up helping him to pick the ring, he wasn’t sure of the right style or size etc. and let’s face it, it’s a bit of a minefield, isn’t it.
I’m sure many potential fiancées have a dream of their beloved surprising them by getting down on one knee with the perfect ring in a little velvet box, but I would recommend going ring shopping together.
We both had the same idea in mind: a vintage engagement ring. I thought that vintage equates with gold, and I’m a silver gal, but I was surprised to learn that platinum is the metal of most vintage rings. We got ours in a little Marie-Antoinette style antique jewellery store in the Powerscourt Centre in Dublin, there was even a friendly little King Charles Spaniel in residence. The first thing the man in the shop asked was to see my hands (it was January, therefore I had my gloves on).
When he saw that they are small with short fingers and strong nails, he said we should go for a thin band and a small solitaire stone, and he had the perfect one in mind. Which is when he produced MY ring; first one I tried on.
It was so dainty and suited my hand perfectly, as well as being exactly 100 years old, which seemed appropriate. But you’re always told to shop around so he produced a number of other rings, some of which were more vintage looking than others. In the end we went back to the first one though, because as well as all of the other factors, it looked best with a wedding band (which seemed scary when he suggested I try on both together, but it makes sense).
They measured my ring size and had the band altered within an hour, just in time for us to pick up en route to Dublin Airport…
Share the quirkTweet