Imagine if we all wore the same clothes every day. Imagine if we all drove the same vehicle. Imagine if we all listened to the same music. It would be a quite boring life, wouldn’t it?
Can such a situation happen? Possibly.
I’m a big supporter of people being able to do their own thing so long as they’re not harming others physically, financially, or emotionally. I’m also a big supporter of variety and the concept of being open to new ideas. Knowing that we have a big world out there and knowing that such a situation lends itself to having diversity in life means that we have more to enjoy.
For example, as I’m writing this I’m listening to Frank Sinatra. Later today I might find myself listening to Slayer or Anthrax. Tomorrow I might find myself listening to Wagner, Bach, or Tchaikovsky. There’s nothing even remotely similar to any of these artists, but I can enjoy all of them. It’s the antithesis of cultural homogenization.
One thing that I’ve seen become more and more culturally homogenized is that of relationships, weddings, and marriage in general. Specifically, hearing people say that a “real” engagement ring or a “real” wedding ring must have a diamond in it has become a standard talking point for many.
My contention is that an engagement ring or wedding ring is whatever the people in question determine it to be—not what the diamond industry says it should be.
What’s interesting is that there’s nothing “traditional” about diamonds being part of marriage. In fact, diamonds were never even part of the topic until the 1930s, when the DeBeers diamond company told Americans that a diamond ring—ostensibly sold by them—was required to show love. Americans bought it, hook, line and sinker. In 2007, Meghan O’Rourke wrote a piece for Slate in which she discusses the history of the diamond wedding ring (I hope that it doesn’t cause an issue to reprint one paragraph from her piece for reference purposes only). Ms. O’Rourke writes:
Yes, you read that correctly: a diamond company helped to convince Americans en masse that in order to show your love for your wife, you had to make them, the diamond companies, rich. The best part is that Americans have gone along with the idea for about four generations.
I don’t write this to convince people to not purchase a diamond ring to signify love; I write it to convince people to be willing to see that an engagement ring or a wedding ring is nothing more than a symbol of something that has been defined by the people involved—not by a cultural trend that was paid for by an industry which profits from that trend.
When I hear people say that a ring cannot be a “real” engagement ring or a “real” wedding ring if it doesn’t have a diamond in it, it worries me that we might be positioning ourselves culturally to become slaves to whatever the next advertising blitz might be. It also worries me that people aren’t deciding for themselves what their own sign of love is. They turn to an ad agency to decide for them.
I personally don’t need to pay a diamond company three months of salary—yes, I’ve been told that the cost has now reached three months of pay instead of two—to show my girlfriend that I love and respect her. Some people might feel that need, but in the end the question becomes: Are you doing it to show love or are you doing it to show off your perceived level of social status?
I have no problem saying that I’m more interested in keeping my symbols of love on a personal level as opposed to making it known publicly by way of spending $6,000 on a piece of compressed coal.
And oddly enough, it cost me nothing to publicly state right here that I love and respect my girlfriend.
I’d sooner have my words and actions be forever.
Can such a situation happen? Possibly.
I’m a big supporter of people being able to do their own thing so long as they’re not harming others physically, financially, or emotionally. I’m also a big supporter of variety and the concept of being open to new ideas. Knowing that we have a big world out there and knowing that such a situation lends itself to having diversity in life means that we have more to enjoy.
For example, as I’m writing this I’m listening to Frank Sinatra. Later today I might find myself listening to Slayer or Anthrax. Tomorrow I might find myself listening to Wagner, Bach, or Tchaikovsky. There’s nothing even remotely similar to any of these artists, but I can enjoy all of them. It’s the antithesis of cultural homogenization.
One thing that I’ve seen become more and more culturally homogenized is that of relationships, weddings, and marriage in general. Specifically, hearing people say that a “real” engagement ring or a “real” wedding ring must have a diamond in it has become a standard talking point for many.
My contention is that an engagement ring or wedding ring is whatever the people in question determine it to be—not what the diamond industry says it should be.
What’s interesting is that there’s nothing “traditional” about diamonds being part of marriage. In fact, diamonds were never even part of the topic until the 1930s, when the DeBeers diamond company told Americans that a diamond ring—ostensibly sold by them—was required to show love. Americans bought it, hook, line and sinker. In 2007, Meghan O’Rourke wrote a piece for Slate in which she discusses the history of the diamond wedding ring (I hope that it doesn’t cause an issue to reprint one paragraph from her piece for reference purposes only). Ms. O’Rourke writes:
In 1919, De Beers experienced a drop in diamond sales that lasted for two decades. So in the 1930s it turned to the firm N.W. Ayer to devise a national advertising campaign—still relatively rare at the time—to promote its diamonds. Ayer convinced Hollywood actresses to wear diamond rings in public, and, according to Edward Jay Epstein in The Rise and Fall of the Diamond, encouraged fashion designers to discuss the new “trend” toward diamond rings. Between 1938 and 1941, diamond sales went up 55 percent. By 1945 an average bride, one source reported, wore “a brilliant diamond engagement ring and a wedding ring to match in design.” The capstone to it all came in 1947, when Frances Gerety—a female copywriter, who, as it happened, never married—wrote the line “A Diamond Is Forever.” The company blazoned it over the image of happy young newlyweds on their honeymoon. The sale of diamond engagement rings continued to rise in the 1950s, and the marriage between romance and commerce that would characterize the American wedding for the next half-century was cemented. By 1965, 80 percent of American women had diamond engagement rings. The ring had become a requisite element of betrothal—as well as a very visible demonstration of status. Along the way, the diamond industry’s guidelines for the “customary” cost of a ring doubled from one month’s salary to two months’ salary.
Yes, you read that correctly: a diamond company helped to convince Americans en masse that in order to show your love for your wife, you had to make them, the diamond companies, rich. The best part is that Americans have gone along with the idea for about four generations.
I don’t write this to convince people to not purchase a diamond ring to signify love; I write it to convince people to be willing to see that an engagement ring or a wedding ring is nothing more than a symbol of something that has been defined by the people involved—not by a cultural trend that was paid for by an industry which profits from that trend.
When I hear people say that a ring cannot be a “real” engagement ring or a “real” wedding ring if it doesn’t have a diamond in it, it worries me that we might be positioning ourselves culturally to become slaves to whatever the next advertising blitz might be. It also worries me that people aren’t deciding for themselves what their own sign of love is. They turn to an ad agency to decide for them.
I personally don’t need to pay a diamond company three months of salary—yes, I’ve been told that the cost has now reached three months of pay instead of two—to show my girlfriend that I love and respect her. Some people might feel that need, but in the end the question becomes: Are you doing it to show love or are you doing it to show off your perceived level of social status?
I have no problem saying that I’m more interested in keeping my symbols of love on a personal level as opposed to making it known publicly by way of spending $6,000 on a piece of compressed coal.
And oddly enough, it cost me nothing to publicly state right here that I love and respect my girlfriend.
I’d sooner have my words and actions be forever.
