You spend a minute arranging two or three chains, step out of the door feeling pulled together, and by lunch they have wound themselves into a single knotted rope at your throat.

You spend a minute arranging two or three chains, step out of the door feeling pulled together, and by lunch they have wound themselves into a single knotted rope at your throat.

Standing in front of your jewellery in the morning, the choice often comes down to a feeling. Do you want to be noticed today, or do you want something you forget you are wearing the moment you fasten it?

It is one of those phrases that sounds good and explains little. You picture old jewellery melted down, or perhaps you wonder whether recycled just means the box it came in.

Standing in front of a screen full of options, the question is always the same: will she actually wear this, or is it going to live politely in its box?

There is a moment, usually in front of the mirror on the way out, when you slide a second bracelet on next to the first and it either works or it does not.

You have the dress on, the necklace held against it, and something is slightly off. The chain disappears into a collar, or floats in a space that does not quite belong to it.