Note: This is a long post, and my last until next week — I’m off to Jack­son, Mis­sis­sippi where I will be lec­tur­ing and book sign­ing (see Upcom­ing Events below for details). If you are in the area, please stop by and say hello when I’ll be sign­ing my book at Juniker Jew­elry.
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Last Wednes­day I attended the press pre­view for Cartier’s new exhi­bi­tion, Cartier…100 Years Of Pas­sion and Free Spirit In Amer­ica. I arrived at the 5^th Avenue man­sion at 1:50, ten min­utes before the sched­uled time when we were per­mit­ted entrance. Secu­rity there was tight; you really couldn’t walk two feet with­out meet­ing up with a guard. One nice gen­tle­man asked if he could help me and I told him why I was there — he seemed to have only a vague idea of the event and then asked me who I was there to see — a curi­ous ques­tion given the infor­ma­tion I had already provided.

Well, appar­ently, no one knew where I should wait, nor did many of them seem to know what to do with me. They strolled me around the first floor not once, but three times. Now nor­mally I would never take issue with being sur­rounded by gor­geous gems and fab­u­lous jew­elry — case after glo­ri­ous case of it — how­ever by the third lap I was feel­ing a lit­tle silly. Finally, I announced to another secu­rity guard that I would sim­ply sit down and wait in an empty chair. My high heels were begin­ning to pinch. This was about 2:54.

In an affir­ma­tive I’ve-been-trained-to-handle-the-likes-of-you, he said, “Until you go upstairs, you are con­sid­ered a client of Cartier, so we invite you to walk around store.” I was not, how­ever, invited to sit down.

And so I did yet another lap around, this time perus­ing the watch depart­ment where they keep all the iconic pieces that you’d rec­og­nize in a heart­beat; actu­ally, this was good, as the exhi­bi­tion had the vin­tage exam­ples to which I could make com­par­isons. After this go-round, it was roughly 2 pm, and my feet were very angry with me, so I slipped into the near­est chair with­out apol­ogy. By 2:11, a dif­fer­ent and far more gra­cious gen­tle­men asked me if I would like some­thing to drink. Water sounded great at that point since I didn’t know when my escort would be arriv­ing to take me to the sec­ond floor. As del­i­cately as I could, pinky-finger aloft, I sipped from a bot­tle of Poland Spring in the Cartier mansion.

Even­tu­ally, a sweet, chirpy PR per­son arrived and oh-so-cheerfully took me to the sec­ond floor. When the ele­va­tor opened, the famous Doris Duke tiara (which I believe was first owned by her mother) was front and cen­ter, glit­ter­ing in dia­monds, gleam­ing in pearls, and in every way a great exam­ple of Art Deco mag­nif­i­cence. A nice start. One fab­u­lous orna­ment had yet to be installed in its case –it was on route to the show — an incred­i­ble brooch where the gems hung from dia­mond strands. The jewel was all about move­ment and lollipop-sized emer­alds. In its place was an image of a woman wear­ing it; the orna­ment was tacked to a thin (today we would call it spaghetti) strap and draped down­ward like a water­fall. I loved how it was worn, just like a flo­ral cor­sage. A time­less idea.

I was per­son­ally given a tour of the show by the well-informed and delight­ful art spe­cial­ist, Vic­to­ria Anstead, who is con­nected with the exhi­bi­tion some­how, although exactly how was never made clear to me. As she took me around, I was struck by the details. A new theme is pre­sented in every room; walls are sten­ciled, scripted with expla­na­tions, and mounted with high-tech flat screen tv’s loop­ing Hol­ly­wood images of Mar­lene Diet­rich, Grace Kelly (aka Princess Grace), and Dame Eliz­a­beth Tay­lor, all Cartier-strewn and sim­ply breath­tak­ing. There was a time when celebri­ties wore their own fab­u­lous jew­elry on cam­era — for me, this will always be the epit­ome of true glamour.

Notable items on dis­play were the sixteenth-century La Pere­g­rina Pearl and neck­lace belong­ing to Dame Tay­lor — the large, sump­tu­ous teardrop-shaped pearl has hung around roy­alty and celebrity for cen­turies and is remark­able for it very exis­tence (espe­cially since its present owner had to dis­lodge from between her puppy’s teeth after it fell off the neck­lace and the dog decided to munch on it like a turkey bone).

And speak­ing of dogs, Princess Grace’s dia­mond poo­dle sits among her dia­mond rings in its own case. The poodle’s tale is artic­u­lated and wags in the breeze — a charm­ing detail.

Al Jolson’s watch was remark­able for its dial which was ori­ented east-west rather than north-south (in other words, the twelve and the six pointed straight towards his index fin­ger). I sur­mised that he must have worn it when per­form­ing and could tell the time with­out mak­ing an obvi­ous ges­ture to the audi­ence — how devoted and bril­liant a per­former he must have been!

Mys­tery clocks abound in this show, and they are mar­vels to be admired, as was Cartier’s detail-perfect replica of the lunar mod­ule, mounted in gold and a gift to astro­naut Neil Arm­strong after his his­toric mission.

I have to say that when I fin­ished the last case, I felt as though I had a fuller under­stand­ing of Cartier’s con­tri­bu­tions to our Amer­i­can aes­thetic. The exhi­bi­tion has both per­sonal nuance and a com­mer­cial thrust; if a sin­gle indi­vid­ual were the focus of such exam­i­na­tion, my inter­est would be piqued and an auto­bi­og­ra­phy war­ranted. Well this is an auto­bi­og­ra­phy of sorts. Which is more the point. I urge you to see it. Beyond all the hype, there is a last­ing impres­sion and atten­tion should be paid. Their accom­plish­ments merit it.

To view beau­ti­ful images of sev­eral of the pieces on dis­play, see the slide show at The New York Times