While my husband has been away for work, I've been spending my evenings alone watching 'The Crown' on Netflix. Someday I'll write about how I identify the queen with my mother (as the monarchy may well have intended, but I think it's more than that), but right now my mind's on diamonds instead.
My mother gave me my grandmother's diamond brooch when I turned forty. "You're more comfortable wearing diamonds than I am," she said. I wore it to my birthday party on a sleek little black dress that I had inherited from a friend of my aunt. Almost eleven years on, I haven't worn it since, until today.
I normally don't think about it. Watching 'The Crown', though, I now think about it every evening as I consider the range of diamond brooches Elizabeth II wears near the shoulder of her dress or cardigan, even when she's merely doing her correspondence. If I were to wear mine as I sat at my writing desk, I have found myself wondering (in an internal voice a lot like my mother's, or the queen's), what would it bring?
I can see it reflected in the monitor. I bought the shirt it is pinned to in a charity shop when I moved to England from Singapore and didn't have warm enough clothes for June. What is it bringing? So far, only consternation. The young Queen Elizabeth II's brooches make her look older, which befits her. Mine does the same. Which gets right up my nose.