Banners & House Colors
Down a path so hidden, one could only find it if the stars aligned with one of its gatekeepers.
A world where the stars could be manufactured but the stones could not.
The Holiday Season was the beginning of a lifetime. Soft, quick footsteps of a young girl echoed down the cold marble halls on the top floor. Time passed through the colors of the ribbon in her hair: Warm taupe, olive green, and a deep red. Pastel floral, angular skies, and eventually, the house color. Every time she wore them, they would ask with a warm smile,
“Where is that from?”
Slowly, over time, those soft, quick footsteps left a trail of silk and velour.
I had an admirable female leader who had taken the time to compliment my letter. We had always spoken the same language. She taught me everything I know, and I had always looked up to her. We were cut from the same cloth. Detail-oriented by nature, she wore her silk scarves as a watch band or a belt. Everyone swore I was the next her. During my first meeting in her ranks, she gave me a small Loupe from a school afar.
“We are the gatekeepers of this world. You’re going to need this. Keep it close. They tend to get swiped around here.”
As my first day concluded, a Great Master stopped by my station, “I’d like to show you something.”
She led me down a path to a bundle of nearly a hundred of the world’s best marvels. Anomalies of Nature. Every color you could imagine. She asked,
“Which one is your favorite?”
I was momentarily speechless, in awe that the earth could produce such beauty over millions of years.
“How does one pick a favorite?”
I finally replied. She laughed, and in that moment, I knew I had found my calling. I pointed to a Fancy Vivid Brown diamond with the oddest proportions of the bunch,
“That one. I’ve never seen anything like it before… Well, I’ve never seen anything like any of this before.” I laughed breathless.
She smiled in delight as she looked at me and back at the stone knowingly,
“Ah, yes, that one has quite a bit of character.”
~
The following afternoon, my leader stopped by and guided me down the path to the stones, as her mentor had done the night before,
“Which one is your favorite?” she asked, as I pointed to the Fancy Vivid Brown once again, and she shook her head, “That’s the worst one!”
I asked why, to which she responded,
“The Yellow Diamonds always do well; the Pink Diamonds are quite rare. The Brown Diamond will never sell. I don’t even know why it was chosen.”
When I had confided that I had already told a Great Master that it was my favorite, she advised that I change my answer for next time. She was right, the Fancy Vivid Brown Diamond never received a design during my time. The best part about the stones was that you found new favorites as time went on, but the Fancy Vivid Brown Diamond always had a special place in my heart.
~
I spent the holidays alone in New York, getting familiar with the maps and starting blueprints. The first order of business was a change in the Guard. After the New Year, we gathered around the table for the first time as one team, led by a Powerhouse. I was the youngest seated and did not fully understand the gravity of the moment. The announcement of my arrival had circled the grapevine three million times over, and I had accidentally amassed an audience worth a stadium overnight. While the phone operators were singing praises and encouraging the word, it had caused a delay in my premiere until the chatter died down.
“What if someone recognizes you?”
I was to stay at my station and keep the Village running. There were many Great Tutors for a boots-on-the-ground lead. Those who guided others to learn skills in their craft, in addition to a focused field of study. Leading by example, with grace and kindness. Signatures like bespoke suits, Zimmerman tops, or ballet flats. The first faces I would see in the morning, just a bit earlier than everyone else. Always there to offer a smile, a wave hello, and encouragement. The ones that took time for advice and curiosity. Always willing to teach beyond the scope, just for the sake of teaching and learning.
“Well, I’m quite color sensitive, so I see color grades of stones easily. We’ll find out soon if you are, too!”
“You’ve got hawk eyes.”
“You’re pretty darn good, kid.”
“Which one is your favorite?”
A Great General would tell me of his growing son and his hobby of finding live music for his family. His team members were always two paces behind, as I ran around with the Crown Jewels. The married Giants and Powerhouses would tell you: take honeymoons through the Italian Riviera on a motorcycle. Go on Safaris in Africa. Get a car in the city for weekend trips. If you get sent to Thailand, walk through the rainforest on your day off, and for sample sales— go for the fur. They always mentioned the food in China. They advised: never mix business with personal life, unless you knew they were the one and that you’d marry them, and even then, to wait until business concluded.
~
The maps had been drawn and memorized, and the plan had been set. The team had prepped. Plans B and C were agreed upon. We had done everything we could to prepare for the sprint. And when a Mercury retrograde alignment was announced, we half-joked/half-warned.
“Mark it on the calendar. It’s no joke.”
“Well, ladies… we have our plan. What more can we do?”
At a young twenty-three, I blurted out,
“Pray to the Jewelry Gods?”
I hadn’t claimed any God at that point, and wanted to respect the unknown beliefs of others. So I opted for an entity that united us. It was received with knowing glances and nods. With every celestial event that aligned with a big push, at the last meeting before the races started, I would close with,
“Pray to the Jewelry Gods. Or whatever God you believe in.”
And then we’d hear it— a message from a Master of Craft with thanks for our efforts and the ringing of the bells,
“Let the games begin!”
~
For each launch, I’d buy myself a ring. Quickly stacked upon one another, the sound of my armor echoed alongside soft and quick footsteps, as I ran the halls and they danced across my maps as they were written. I was on the verge of twenty-five, the day a Great offered to be my mentor. She had led me down another path, to a room of manufactured stars for the stones. As she said,
“I’d like for you to think of me as your mentor.”
The stones arrived. Chit chat resumed as a Master had joined us, and I witnessed my Mentor’s motherly instinct for the first time, knowing it would suit her well. As we walked back to our station, I confided,
“I’ve never had a mentor before! What does it mean?”
Her mind was elsewhere as she said, “Well, a mentor guides you down the path of your career.”
~
I premiered in New York upon my mentor’s insistence. I was dressed in the house colors with a silk banner in my hair. She rubbed her belly with pride and softness amongst an incoming storm and said,
“You look perfect.”
She was about to leave the Village and bring a life into the world. An iconic marriage and pregnancy on the Upper East Side. Her next steps would include a highly anticipated little one. I wasn’t sure what mine would be, as I contemplated for the first time what I wanted for myself. A surprising potential romance rooted in a time when the world was closed kept sending flowers from afar, and my reporting line was about to change. The dichotomy that came with my success was pulling me in different directions. Just moments before the rally call, she slid over a piece of paper. One that sealed a curse, if signed.
“You should not be seen or heard.”
I disagreed with what had been written; however, I could not premiere if I did not sign it. Across the line, my voice was taken. And the Gods saw. La Mer La Nuit. The world had gathered to set sail, and the clock was ticking. The opening rally fell upon my ears, and it was off to the races. The Village and the Troops ran up and down ten flights of stairs, and I ran even beyond. Storms brewed—floods on the ship. The changes in the Earth’s climate had set an alarm. When it rang, the Gods sent record fires to Canada, burning over 7.8 million acres of land and suffering an unimaginable amount of tree cover loss. The first twenty-five days of June saw more land burn than the previous 20 years combined. The winds carried soot and ash to New York, creating the second-worst air quality in the world, reaching an index reading of over 200.
Level: Very Unhealthy
The show continued as we watched angry, dark orange clouds roll in. I had hand-carried those designs and stones from Acquisition and Development to Inspection, to all of the Greats seated at the house, to the Studio, and to Campaigns and Press to ensure they were protected. This time, I was going to carry them to the floor and showrooms for Premiere. I had spent the season taking them through every department, and it was time to run the final routes in a single day, every day—fifteen days in a row, and then a final seven after a day of rest. The Olympics. It didn’t matter what my title stated. My days started as early as dawn and ended long after dusk. I shook hands with Australia, Hawaii, California, Texas, and Dubai, as was customary after a collector from the region acquired a piece. It was an honor to meet with them and to hear their stories: families, love, travel, work, and their journeys with jewelry. My steps had hit over 22,000 in a day for running from one department to another during the season, and when I ran down the halls of the house, teammates cheered from their stations.
There she is!
She’s alive!
Where have you been? I have not seen you in days. I’ve been worried sick!
A Great Ally once told me,
You can do anything.
And she meant it. She has some of my deepest respects. The Village and Troops sprinkled across the world after Olympic runs and wins. I had planned a victory lap across Italy with my best friend from COVID. I was in Monterroso when a Powerhouse delivered the news: the baby had arrived! We all jumped in unison and delight across seas and regions.
“The baby has her hair!” It was another win.
Man can plan and prep as much as possible, but some things are simply left to the will of the Gods. Some call it Luck, others— Fate! To ignore such things was a blatant disregard of the nature that is mere mortality.
Written with Honey
