Adornment as Protection, Identity, and Love

Jewellery is never just decoration.

We might think of it today as something ornamental — a finishing touch, a flash of sparkle, a way to elevate an outfit. But for most of human history, adornment was something far more powerful.

It was protection. It was identity. It was memory, status, magic, defiance, love.

It was story, worn close.

The Oldest Story We Carry

The urge to adorn ourselves goes back tens of thousands of years. Some of the earliest known jewellery ever found is over 100,000 years old — beads made from tiny sea snail shells, pierced and strung together, discovered in a cave in Morocco.

Think about that for a moment. Long before metalwork, before cities, before writing — there were people threading shells together and wearing them on their bodies.

Not because they needed them. But because they meant something.

Maybe they were worn for protection. Maybe they marked a rite of passage. Maybe they were simply beautiful — and that was reason enough.

Adornment was a human instinct long before fashion ever existed.

Talismanic Beauty

Across cultures and centuries, people have always imbued objects with meaning. Teeth from a successful hunt, worn for strength. Stones believed to heal or ward off harm. Knots tied for luck. Metals that caught the light and held stories in their shine.

Ancient Egyptians wore amulets in the shapes of gods or sacred animals, pressed close to the skin like protective prayers. Vikings carved runes into pendants. Roman soldiers carried coins or charms for good fortune. The Victorians tucked secret messages into their jewellery — mourning pieces, hair lockets, lovers' tokens, tiny worlds of memory.

Adornment wasn't frivolous. It was deeply personal. It was an outward sign of something inward and sacred. A shield. A spell. A message to the world — or just to oneself.

Jewellery as Identity

A wedding ring. A friendship bracelet. A family heirloom. A piece you saved up for yourself.

These objects say: this is who I am. This is what matters to me. They become touchstones — tiny, wearable anchors to moments, memories, or identities that feel important.

And sometimes, they’re quiet declarations of resistance. To beauty standards. To trends. To anyone else’s idea of who you should be.

These are not just accessories. They are declarations.

I am loved.

I belong to myself.

I remember.

I am here.

Rituals of Getting Ready

Even now, we reach for certain pieces on certain days like little armour charms. The necklace you always wear to job interviews. The ring that makes you feel powerful. The earrings you put on when you need a reminder that you are, in fact, That Girl.

Handmade things often carry this energy even more strongly — touched by human hands, shaped with care, made with intention. Every twist of wire, every forged shape, every carefully chosen stone holds a trace of the maker. The warmth of fingers, the breath of thought, the echo of patience.

In a world of mass-produced everything, handmade pieces feel like talismans of slowness. Of story. Of human hands shaping metal, glass, fibre, stone — shaping meaning. We wear them, not just because they’re pretty, but because they feel alive.

Maybe it’s not about fashion at all. Maybe it never was.

Maybe it’s about how it feels to loop that necklace over your head. How your favourite ring fits perfectly on your finger. How your earrings catch the light and remind you you’re here, you’re real, you’re you.

Adornment can be protection. It can be joy. It can be love, worn close. To wear what makes you feel most you — regardless of trends, regardless of rules — is an act of resistance. It’s a reminder that you are not here to disappear. A reminder that you are meant to shine, to shimmer, to be seen.

And that? That’s magic.

 

Share yours

We’d love to know — what’s your everyday talisman?

Is it something old? Something handmade? Something tiny and secret that nobody else notices but makes you feel like you?

Tell us your story, because jewellery is never just jewellery.