A graduation is one of those rare days that closes a long chapter and opens another at the same time. The person standing there in the gown has earned something that took years, and the gift that marks it should feel like it understands that.

A graduation is one of those rare days that closes a long chapter and opens another at the same time. The person standing there in the gown has earned something that took years, and the gift that marks it should feel like it understands that.

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.