‘We had no idea we were going to find a carved emerald of this age and size, with such remarkable history.’
Our jewellery specialist Max Fawcett recalls the moment he discovered an exceptional emerald cameo and rose-cut diamond brooch, originally owned by Princess Lobanov-Rostovsky, a well-known society figure and a member of Russia’s oldest royal dynasty.
This historic emerald and diamond pendantis offered in Geneva Magnificent Jewels on 15 November at Christie’s in Geneva.
#jewellery #emerald #jewels #cameo
Natural Pearl and Diamond Pendant/Brooch, late 19th century
Of trefoil design, set with three slightly baroque slightly grey to light brown natural pearls measuring approximately 9.30 x 11.35 x 15.30mm, 10.20 x 11.85 x 14.65mm, and 10.95 x 12.85 x 16.75mm, and circular-, single-cut, cushion-shaped and rose diamonds, later detachable brooch fitting.
Few things could sound worse to Emma Swan than a ‘Single Ladies Cooking Class’ but thanks to her scheming friends that’s exactly where she’s ended up. It should be terrible, but it’s actually kind of nice thanks to the instructor, Killian Jones, who is also there under duress. Now both of them are wondering is this new attraction based on unfounded hope, or could this strange beginning actually be a recipe for success? HEA guaranteed. Rated M. Also on FF Here.
A/N: So as those of you who read my other stories know, I truly have no time to be writing a new AU, BUT here we are. All I know is that yesterday morning I saw a listing for a cooking class and inspiration struck. Expect my typical shenanigans, cuteness, meddling friends, and a fluffy ending. It will also be a much shorter fic than usual (probably 3 or 4 chapters total). I hope you guys enjoy and as always thanks for reading!
“So we’re still on for tonight?” Ruby asked through the phone and Emma rolled her eyes knowing full well that her friend couldn’t see. The fact that Ruby even bothered to ask was slightly ridiculous. Of course she was going. Emma never missed a girls night.
“Yes Ruby, we’re still on. I just got home – give me ten minutes to change and then you can make your way over.”
“Better make it twenty. The walk down those stairs is not so easily tackled in these heels.”
Letters from the Depths of Solitude. 138. On Acorns
I collected several acorns today on the street. Each of them held an ideal egg-like form. Starting as dark brown, so dark it was almost blue, from their top, the point where they should have been shielded by their berets (but they lost them, all displaying a beige bare tip, a tonsure of sort), the color went through a gentle gradation, getting lighter and lighter, to the pointy end, where a tiny spike crowns the acorn. The acorns had a glance finish, as if they were polished with a tender velvet fabric. They beamed in the sun as though covered with a layer of translucent varnish. They were glossy to the point of reflecting the universe. Also reminded some fat bugs, if those bugs should exist, an insect–all abdomen.
Those acorns were like jewels. As though they were the product of a mineral composition, rather than something organic. Agates–not acorns. I could see myself in each of them, features peculiarly distorted, my glasses of a strangest form, and I think, one of my reflections had a mustache. I wanted to collect as many as I could, for there was an ample supply, scattered on the ground and unattended, but I reminded myself that I need to stay rational, and that there is no use for them in my pockets, nor in my bags; neither in my home, nor in my office. I briefly toyed with the idea of giving one of them to every person whom I meet throughout the day, and thus making everyone happy, but I rejected the thought on the ground that all individuals are in a perfect state of equality in regard to acorns–they might collect as many as they please, should they wish to collect acorns, for acorns this season are everywhere, the city is practically drowning in acorns, and therefore, by giving acorn to an individual, you take on a strange position of a giver whose gift is worthy of nothing at all. Not only does not it have any value, but manifestly so. You don’t want to appear “cute” giving away acorns. It’s a serious business.
In the studio of Ari Athans, Glass jars store votive offerings and coral chrysoprase, while a 22-carat-gold and dendritic quartz claw ring sits on a bed of green fluorite next to a silver key and quartz neckpiece.
From ‘Glam Rocks’, a story on page 99 of Vogue Living Nov/Dec 2011.