Mum wore a turquoise cuff every day for forty-seven years. When we cleared out the house, it was the one thing we could not find.
Six things a forty-five dollar bracelet has done for me, my sister, and my dad on one of his good days.
Mum bought her bracelet at the Queen Vic Market in 1972 for seven dollars, having argued the man down from nine. Turquoise stones in a silver cuff, open at the back. She put it on her right wrist that afternoon and I do not think it came off again until 2019.
It is in every photograph we have of her. The beach at Rosebud in the orange caftan. My wedding. Robyn's fortieth. Every Christmas lunch, reaching across the table for the gravy.
When Dad went into care two years ago, my sister Robyn and I cleared out the house in Bendigo. We went through every drawer, every handbag and every biscuit tin in that house, and it was not there. We still do not know what happened to it after Mum died. Dad does not remember, and we have stopped asking him.
I have looked ever since. Op shops, market stalls, the internet at midnight. The real vintage ones were three and four hundred dollars, and I could not do it, not with everything else. Then in July this one came up on my phone, and I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at it for a long time. Six things about what it turned out to be.
Forty-five dollars, after two years of not being able to justify four hundred
I will start with the money, because it is the reason I finally did it. Every proper vintage piece I found had a price that put the chemist, the car rego and a grandchild's school shoes ahead of it in the queue. At $44.95 it slipped under all of that. Delivery was free across Australia, there are thirty days to send it back if it is not right, and you can Afterpay it if the month has been a long one. I looked it up afterwards, and allowing for the years, Mum paid more for hers than I paid for mine. She would have liked that.
That's it. Near enough, Nance, that's it.
It is the colour of every photo from 1974
If you grew up in Australia in the seventies, you will know this bracelet even if you have never seen this particular one. Turquoise and silver was everywhere then, on mothers and aunties and the woman at the bank, usually with a caftan or a cheesecloth shirt. This one is a row of nine oval stones, each set in a little scalloped silver edge, with small round silver beads above and below every stone. It is a new piece made in that old style, and when it came out of the parcel I went straight to the drawer, got out the photo of Mum at Rosebud and held the two side by side.
She wore it with everything. Even the orange caftan. Especially the orange caftan.
Every stone is a little different, and one of them is brown
This is the part that got me. Mum's bracelet had one stone that was more rust than blue, with dark veins running through it, and she used to say that one was hers and the rest were for show. When mine arrived I turned it over in my hands and there it was, second from the left: one stone a warm brown with a thread of turquoise through it. The others are all different too, some a clear sky colour, some with fine dark lines through them like a map. I do not know whether every one of these bracelets has a brown stone. Mine does, and I have decided that is not a coincidence.
The brown one's mine. The rest are for show.
There is no clasp, which at ten to six is everything
I am out the door at ten to six most mornings, and anything that needs two hands and good light does not get worn. A cuff gets round that. There is a gap at the back, so it slides on sideways over the narrow part of your wrist and sits there, and that is the whole business. Nothing to fasten, nothing to catch on a cardigan sleeve, nothing to fiddle with in a car park. Mum used to put hers on while she was talking to you, without even looking down, and I have caught myself doing exactly the same.
It's a cuff, Nance. You just put it on.
It sits on my right wrist, where hers did
I have put it where Mum wore hers. My little bird bracelet stays on the left and this goes on the right, and I have stopped worrying about whether they go together, because it turns out silver and turquoise sit happily with nearly everything I own: the navy cardigan, the white work shirt, jeans on a Saturday. The first morning I wore it, my eldest came in to borrow the car, stopped in the kitchen doorway and said I looked like Nanna in the beach photos. She did not mean it as a criticism, and I did not take it as one.
Mum, you look like Nanna in the beach photos.
Dad reached over and put his thumb on the stones
Dad has good days and quiet days now. On a Tuesday in August, on a good one, I was pouring his tea in Bendigo when he reached across and put his thumb on the stones, the way he used to turn Mum's bracelet round on her wrist when they sat together watching the telly. And he said, "Your mother had one of those." Not "is that your mother's." He knew it was not hers. He knew it was like hers. For the rest of the visit he told me about the market in 1972, and the seven dollars, and how she got the man down from nine. I have heard that story perhaps two hundred times. I had not heard it from him in over a year.
Your mother had one of those.
What I thought forty-five dollars would buy, against what it has done
I was not expecting much. I have been disappointed by the internet before.
One more thing before the price
I want to be straight about what this is, because Mum would have been. It is not an antique and I would not call it an heirloom. It is a new cuff, silver in tone, with turquoise-coloured stones, made in the style our mothers wore. Mum's cost seven dollars and was not precious either. It was only ever precious because it was hers. I take mine off for the shower and the pool, keep perfume and hand cream away from it, and give it a rub with a soft cloth now and then, which is exactly what she did.
About the price
It is $44.95. There are grander turquoise pieces about, and if you have four hundred dollars and a good reason, go and find one. I had neither. What I had was a photo of my mother at Rosebud and two years of looking, and for forty-five dollars, with free delivery and thirty days to change my mind, I got something close enough that my father recognised it. That is my arithmetic, and I am very happy with it.
If you have a photo of your own mother somewhere with a flash of turquoise on her wrist, you will already know why I bought it. It is not hers. It was never going to be. But it is the closest I have come in two years, it goes on in a second, and it has been on my right wrist every day since July.
— Nancy
Vintage Turquoise Stone Bracelet
- Nine oval turquoise-coloured stones, each with its own veining
- Vintage silver-tone cuff with beaded detail above and below every stone
- Open at the back, slips on from the side with no clasp to fasten
- A new piece made in the turquoise-and-silver style of the 1970s
- Goes with silver, gold and nearly everything in the wardrobe
- Free Australia-wide delivery · 30-day money back · Afterpay available
About this story. Nancy's story is a dramatisation, written to show the kind of reason people choose this piece. Names and details are illustrative. The bracelet is a new piece made in a vintage Southwestern style. Stone colour and veining may vary from piece to piece.
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