Every piece in this collection was worn by someone before it was worn by Shona: her mother’s Egyptian Head Brooch, her grandmother’s carnelian signet ring, her great aunt’s Art Deco dress clips, a mysterious garnet tied to her father’s grief, a Jerusalem cross from the priest who helped save her. Add the Scottish clan badges worn by both her parents and a tiny bone owl gifted by a former husband, and the result is a jewellery box that reads like a family tree—each gem a small, glinting chapter of where she comes from.

Copper Brooch

The jewel boxes were both my mother’s: she gave me the blue one when she moved into her last home, a small room with an en-suite bathroom in a retirement village. It was a far cry from the spaces she had previously lived in, so there was no option but to de-clutter, and that included shedding 90% of everything in her possession. The red velvet box came to me as one of her last keepsakes and thus I inherited the remains of her jewellery collection.

One of my very earliest, clearest memories of my mother includes this copper brooch, pinned on an olive green cardigan with purple and black striped elbow-length sleeves. She wore both often, so the brooch was clearly a favourite accessory. Mum used to call it the ‘Egyptian Head Brooch’. I still do. I remember Mum cursing that it would tarnish, thus requiring elbow grease and ‘Brasso’ polish to restore its reddish glow. I continue that same task, as the Egyptian head continues its regular outings from when I first sighted it over 80 years ago!

Carnelian Ring

I can still see my maternal grandmother wearing this ring. It seemed to be constantly on her finger and unmissable on her right hand as she waved around a cigarette or flipped over her famous pikelets on an iron griddle in her kitchen – a real haven for me as there would always be something delicious on the go! Sometimes the smell of smoke would overtake that of the cooking as she was prone to multi-tasking!

When my ‘Nanny’ -as we called her- died, my mother happily gave me the ring as it was ‘not her colour’! Mum much preferred emeralds and diamonds as to her they were more the real deal, than a drab carnelian! In fact the ring is subtly carved in something of an Art Deco style and quite translucent; its reddish-brown colour is typical of chalcedony agates or carnelians. It’s a signet ring setting, rather masculine in style and in fact quite commonly found in jewellers’ ‘menswear section’. Lots of happy childhood reminders here for me.

Rhinestone Clips

These clips were also passed on to me when my mother tired of them. I believe they once belonged to my maternal great Aunt Peg and my mother was more than a little notorious for having her eye on the prize when a deceased estate came along! I believe the clips are also from the Art Deco era, and indeed photos of my great aunt at that time depict her as stylishly ‘on trend’!

Originally, although sold singly, these clips also came as mirrored pairs which clamped on to a metal frame with a pin on the reverse, thereby also forming a brooch. Sadly, my frame is long amongst the missing, but the clips alone have several uses as intended by the initial design: I clamp them either side of shirt collars, coat lapels, on pockets or hats. On the odd occasion, they have featured on shoes or boots- possibly my most versatile jewellery accessories.

Garnet Ring

I do so wish this ring could talk, for although it also came to me via my mother, she had little to say about it, other than- somewhat dismissively- ‘oh that was your father’s friend’s ring’. I have a vague recollection of my father mentioning it as having belonged to a close male friend of his. It was obvious that it upset Dad to talk about this friend’s death. I think the two were in a highland pipe band at some stage and I know our families were friendly and there were children…..

My mysterious ring is much admired for its setting and colour. It is a garnet of the most wonderful hue and its setting is interesting as the claws holding the stone in place, are carved directly out of the ring’s shoulders. A ‘belcher’ setting, I found out, characteristic of late Victorian or Edwardian times. I imagine it as a pair of hands holding a precious gift. Perhaps Dad did too…

Jerusalem Cross

A momentary segue from family jewels, to a brooch that was given to me by a Franciscan priest, whom I will simply refer to as Father Augustine. I came to Australia in 1979: it was a huge upheaval to move countries and jobs at the same time as things on the marital front were less than idyllic, but who knew what a fresh start might bring and as the saying goes: ‘never look back’.

Suffice to say, it was not long before I was on my own. Life was not fun and I was not only living Down Under, and but feeling similarly.

Father Augustine was a work colleague. I did not work closely with him, but was always struck by his gentle manner and quiet empathy with clients and staff. Keeping brief the proverbial long story, it was Father Augustine’s kindness and referral for intervention that largely contributed to turning around my messy life. We eventually shared some dinners (he was an excellent cook)and our mutual love of cats involved many ‘tails’. He gave me this Jerusalem cross, also known as the Crusader’s cross. It reminds me of him and his crusade on my behalf. I’m still here. His life ended peacefully many years ago now.

Clan Badges: Dad

Dad was always a passionate upholder of our Scottish ancestry and on occasions e.g New Year’s Eve/ Hogmanay, cut a dashing figure in his full kilt kit! Here he is in January 1987, with the Grant Clan Badge, motto ‘Stand Fast’ to his right on the kilt- Grant tartan of course! Dad’s mother’s maiden name was Sutherland-the Clan Badge to left in badge photo- with motto ‘Sans Peur’ (without fear). When I was very young, Dad still ‘played the pipes’ and was in the local pipe band, but lost his puff down the track, to my mother’s relief!

The brooch with the gold quartz centre and ornate filigree surround, is a traditional piece of Scottish jewellery known as a cairngorm. Scottish clans all had their tartans, badges and mottos. They were/ are held in special reverence, though I have to say that when this particular collection came my way, I wasn’t sure it was ‘ME’! Life, attitudes and style vary with time and today I wear all three Scottish brooches on a tartan jacket, mindful of a heritage of many generations and the New Yesr’s Eve habit of ‘first-footing’ – being the first person over someone’s threshold bearing coal or other gift to bring luck for the year ahead.

Clan Badge: Mum

Not to be outdone by Dad, on the same day he was kitted out in his kilt, Mum put on a tartan skirt and the aforementioned golden cairngorm! Her grandmother (above- Feather boa) with maiden name of. Nicholson was born in Scotland. When it suited her, Mum proclaimed herself to be 100% Scottish, ignoring her English forebears! The Gaelic words on the Nicholson Clan Badge were a battle cry meaning ‘mottled or speckled peak’. It is the war cry related to landscape on the Isle of Skye, home to the clan.

Of course, this relic from my mother’s side also came my way and usually joins the Grant mob on my lapel. I rather like the Gaelic words, which sound incredibly fierce when pronounced correctly and must surely have had the desired impact when yelled at invading clans back in the day! The head of a hawk in the centre, literally belted and buckled in, adds to the fearsome message! Mum and I did not always see eye to eye, and many times I felt like yelling at her with her clan war cry!

Owl

Perhaps in memory of the character, Owl, featured my still favourite A.A. Milne books, I have always referred to this tiny carved owl as such: Owl. Owl was a gift from my former husband. He purchased it on some trip or other- Singapore, maybe- and at the time, we believed it to be made of ivory- now a forbidden import- but on further consideration, it is most likely hand- carved from bone. I wore Owl frequently on a fine gold chain: it was much admired.

These days, Owl is literally a full-time night bird, and sleeps in the red jewel-box featured above. He is there when I open it, gazing with his bespectacled eyes. I think the wire frames might even be 14K gold; considerable attention to detail has gone into this tiny (about two centimetres) pendant jewel, with the intricately carved feathers and tiny black- onyx? eyes. Another gem with a hidden story, I realise it hat Owl has been with me for almost 50 years!