Not my best friend.

/Not my best friend.

So my abject loathing of diamonds is something of a joke to my friends and family, while simultaneously being a relief to my husband. I just don’t like the damn things; I think they look tacky. They’re also basically worthless hunks of coal whose “value” is based on an international cartel and decades-long marketing dupe, rather than the damn things themselves being, yanno. Rare. I mean, they’re made of carbon for godssakes! We can manufacture them! (Yes, even gem-quality ones.) Not even mentioning that the mined ones often come at a horrific human cost.

For the record, I do have an engagement ring, and so does my husband. We chose our own, and mine’s made of white gold. It cost about $200.

We used his three months’ salary as part of a deposit on our first house, instead. Having no mortgage in your 20s and 30s is much better than any worthless hunk of rock, believe me.

2017-07-17T11:38:55+00:0025th November, 2013|Tags: culture|Comments Off on Not my best friend.