Don't call it a comeback...

I am what is referred to as a "ginger". I have red hair, fair skin, and much to my chagrin, a multitude of freckles. I get it from my grandfather, and despite spending a great amount of time during my pregnancy hoping that my son would not inherit the carrot-top gene from me, he went and did it anyway. I used to hate being a redhead, but not because I hate having red hair. In fact if my hair were a different color, I'd probably dye it red. The reason I hate being a redhead is my vampiric susceptibility to sunlight. I got a sunburn once sitting in the window of a Taco Bell. I don't just burn easily, I burn instantly. And every time I spend an even minimal amount of time in the sun, I acquire dozens of new freckles. It's exasperating.

Now, my reason for bringing this up is directly related to my latest project. I, like most women my age, hell any age for that matter, fell victim years ago to the trend of white gold, silver, platinum, what have you. Yellow gold became passé for everyone but pimps and hoochies. No respectable girl got a diamond solitaire set in yellow gold when she got engaged. Hell, there was even mention of said horror in an episode of Sex and the City. And this trend was fine with me because as a young woman without means it was much easier, and cheaper, to go to the local import store and buy a twenty dollar silver ring than to go to the local jeweler and shell out 200 bucks for a gold one. However, as a ginger, white gold does nothing for my complexion. It doesn't pop against my fair skin or complement my red hair. It's just sort of...there.

Fast forward to my wedding day. My grandmother had promised me several years ago that when she passed away she would leave me her wedding ring. Five modest-sized diamonds set in, you guessed it, yellow gold. When I called her the night before my wedding to tell her I was getting married the next day, I jokingly said "I don't suppose I could have my ring a little early?" I wasn't really expecting her to say yes since she was still alive, married, and wearing the ring. But, as is typical of her, she agreed to part with her sixty year old wedding ring a little earlier than planned. Personally I think she was in such shock from the news that I was actually getting married that it affected her ability to think clearly. But nevertheless, she arrived at my home the next day wearing a plain gold band on her left ring finger, and handed me the wedding ring I'd been coveting since I was a child...my first piece of yellow gold jewelry in over a decade.

A few months later I found myself at the post exchange (this is similar to a T.J. Maxx for those of you who aren't military). Now, the thing about the px is this...it has name brand things...clothes, jewelry, purses...that are discounted and tax free. And when I say name brand, I mean labels. Such as my greatest weakness in life...Coach. For the most part I am not a label whore. I buy clothes at American Eagle, Old Navy, and Target. I'm not slung up in Macy's buying $200 jeans. However, I will lay down a ridiculous amount of money for a Coach purse. I'm not proud of it, but I will do it in a heartbeat if the money is there. So there I was, wandering through the purse department at the px when I spotted it. It called out to me. I was as entranced as Sleeping Beauty was with the spindle. A large, roomy, Coach hobo bag in the signature fabric with leather trim. And it was gold. The fabric was gold, the leather was metallic gold, and the hardware was gold. It was gaudy, it was glitzy, and it was top to bottom yellow gold. It required little persuasion on my part to convince my husband to buy it for me, as it was obvious I was in love. I walked out of the px with my new gold Coach purse that looked absolutely smashing with my yellow gold wedding ring.

A few months ago, my son and I were in a catastrophic car accident which completely totaled my husband's Nissan Xterra, which incidently I have hated since day one. While it wasn't exactly the way I had envisioned ridding myself of the boymobile, I nevertheless found myself in the market for a new car. Now while I typically go for cars like Mustangs and Chargers and Camaros, I was a mom now. I wanted something safe, something practical, something with good gas mileage and a good maintenance record. I decided on a Honda. Every Honda owner I've ever known was a die-hard fan and swore allegiance to Honda forever. So I went shopping for an Accord. I walked down the line of four door sedans mourning the loss of my coolness factor when all of the sudden I saw it. The perfectly practical and sensible Honda Accord in...pimp daddy gold. I informed the salesman that I had made my choice, the paperwork was drawn up, and I drove away in my oh so glamorous yellow gold mommy car.

Today, I once again found myself in the px here at lovely Fort Riley. I browsed the Coach purses, not nearly as impressed with the selection as I was the day I found my precious gold hobo. But then I meandered my way to the jewelry counter. And inside the case, calling to me, was a two-tone Fossil watch with a mother-of-pearl face and a diamond bezel, the exact one I had seen online just a few days before. This is a watch I would not have even considered buying over the course of the last fifteen years. But today, after having driven to the px in my lovely gold car while wearing my simple diamond and yellow gold wedding ring and sporting my gold Coach purse as a diaper bag, I was it's biggest fan. I whipped out my debit card and purchased the ever so ghetto chic watch and put it on immediately upon getting into my car.

So, my latest project, in case it hasn't become obvious over the course of this post, is to single-handedly bring the glitz and glamour of yellow gold back into the spotlight. To not only wear the outdated and abandoned metal with pride, but also inspire a renewed popularity amongst the fashion starved ladies of Kansas, in particular the gingers who really know how to make yellow gold shine.