Wednesday, February 20, 2008

i will craft your next iced-out jesus piece

As I alluded to in one of yesterday's (oops) Monday's posts, I was forced to learn a new trade last weekend -- jewelry-making. And when I mean forced, I mean the woman in the store nearly shanked me when I asked if she could just craft for me. But before I get to my near-death experience in a certain Dupont Circle jewelry/bead store with a most unfortunate name, Beadazzled, let me just quickly recount the retardulous events that led me to discover this newfound skill.

The story actually dates back many generations to my mother's silver-smithing dad (it must run in the family) and my dad's classically stylish mom (it must run in the family -- I had to say it). Anyway, I somehow inherited a pendant from each. Now, I thought it would be kind of awesome to string the two pendants on a single chain. Not only is it nauseatingly sentimental (savor this, it will never happen again), but it also would just plain make for a unique necklace. However, there was one small glitch. While my grandmother's "B"-inscribed silver Tiffany's pendant (classy, no?) would fit on any chain, my grandfather's homemade Slavic cross (I can't deny my third-world roots) would have to be custom fit on a chain due to a small issue with the design.

But too-hard-to-explain design details and my sordid personal family history aside, I decided to take it to the streets and find a jeweler to do work for me. Not being a frequent wearer of jewels, I went to the only jewelry store I knew of -- Tiny Jewel Box, which is located just south of Dupont. I figured any jewelry store would be willing to string up my family jewels, er, family heirlooms.

Well, let me be concise here and just say Tiny Jewel Box is as useless as its name is dumb (although not as dumb as Beadazzled). After enduring a few up-and-down looks from some of the Brooks Brothers-clad customers, a sales associate finally stopped doing nothing to help me out. And by "help," I mean she snobbily told me as I showed her my pendants, "Um, mmmkay, we don't really do stuff like that here. You should try maybe one of those booths at a mall...in the suburbs." Apparently, family heirlooms are too pedestrian for Tiny Ass Box.

So, deciding I'd see Tiny Crap Box in hell (of course), I called on The Law, who had the Interweb at her fingertips. After a few short seconds of Googling, she pointed me to Beadazzled up the street.

I had no idea what I was getting into until I opened the door and walked into a middle-aged woman's paradise. Talbots-style chunky beaded necklaces adorned the walls, while piles of freewheeling beads filled countless bins in the center of the room. I must admit I was a bit freaked out. I didn't want to make any zebra-patterned beaded sh*t, I just wanted a goddamn silver chain.

Luckily for me, the workers at Beadazzled were less snobby than those at Tiny Suck Box and they helped me sort through the hot mess of beads to the chains, where a woman with horn-rimmed glasses helped me pick out the correct chain and clasp. There was just one problem -- I had to make it myself.

What?! Now don't get me wrong. I'm pretty good at the arts and crafts and I can hem the hell out of a pair of pants, but something about metal work frightened me -- especially considering that what I wanted done would've taken one of these professionals all of five minutes to complete. But no. When I asked her to just get this done in-store she basically threatened to cut me. It was DIY or die, if you will. I could sense her next words would be, "Fool what you want, your life or your jewels? Ante up!" I was scared.

And so, I gathered my two feet of raw chain (they wouldn't sell me less) and my three tiny metal clasp pieces and checked out for $7.41. Not bad, although having refused to buy the "tools" necessary to properly complete this project, I had no idea what I'd be able to do. But to my surprise, I was able to do some major work. Making jewelry, or at least attaching a clasp to a chain, is basically as easy as putting keys on a keychain. Take a look:

Crafty, n'est-ce pas?

In the end though, basking in the glory of my final product, I actually want to thank Beadazzled for laughing in my face when I asked them for help because I am now a master jeweler. I will design Kanye West's next Jesus piece, this I vow.

Holy tight.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love how the ultimate snobbery is to make a comment about the suburbs. I mean, isn't more than half of DC's population orginally from a suburb someplace? Not everyone from/in the suburbs wears white Reeboks with Lee jeans and considers Cheesecake Factory fine dining. Screw her!

Also, you need to find (or craft) a Putin pendant. That's all.

Marissa said...

OMG! A Putin piece! That is hands-down the most brilliant idea I've ever heard. If, I mean, WHEN I make this happen, I will totally give credit to you, The Anonymous Genius.

I-66 said...

Personally I don't know why you don't just carry your family jewels around in your coin purse.

Capitol Hill 20210 said...

I like the necklace :-)
I commented as Wendy yesterday - you and I-66 inspired me to start my own bloggity blog...........however mine is kind of bitchy :-)

the law said...

Best M.O.P. reference ever. Of course unless you were actually getting nabbed...

Marissa said...

capitol hill 20210--

Bitchy blogs are the best kind.

the law--

Or yapped.

alfred said...

During the end of the 80s decade, hip hop fashion, jewelry, and hairstyle reflected traditional African culture. Africa chains, blousy pants, red, black and green clothing, and dreadlocks were donned by rappers such as MC Hammer. When the 90s rolled in, baseball caps, neon clothing and even wearing clothes backwards became the new trend.

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