I got the Elsa Peretti blues.
I woke up this morning to her image staring knowingly into the camera. The image was part of her obituary. Peretti’s kohl-lined, world-weary eyes seemed to ask “Who are you to look at me?”
I was unexpectedly pierced with sadness. Not just for her. For me.
My mother, an unheralded writer, singer, artist, was drawn early on to Peretti’s jewelry from Tiffany’s. The familiar robin’s egg blue catalog started featuring her striking sterling silver designs, which seemed very avant-garde, in the mid-1970s. The open, off-center heart necklace, the tear-drop shaped earrings, the bone cuff