I don’t really remember when my obsession with rings truly began. It must go way back, somewhere to elementary school, to perusing stands along the riverside, dreaming about those big stone rings while only being able to afford thin basic ones.
I guess you could say it started with one on my right thumb. But why the thumb? It was unusual, I saw it somewhere and I wanted it to become my thing. Even as a teenager, I was looking for something that would become my statement piece. And this thing stuck. I lost couple, changed a few and hold on to the one from high school.
After a while, it got few more. They held no other value, than the joy of accessorizing my fingers. I’ve collected a quite remarkable collection since then. From dainty small ones to big, real rocks, I have it all. Some of them are long gone green, some are so precious I only take them out for special occasions. Some hold interesting stories and some are just a trendy piece bought in affect, never to be looked at again.
Going shopping, I would come back with at least two or more. I also used to have this habit of never wearing the same ones twice in the same week. I feel weird without any, almost undone. I’ve since eased up on accumulating and increased on the admiration. Ritual, habit, call it whatever you want. But after 10 years, my fingers are still never naked. ♥0