Jewelry that Speaks Volumes: Madeleine Albright

Today is International Women's day so it seems fitting to talk about a woman who shattered a huge glass ceiling and whose brilliant diplomacy extended beyond just her words: former U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright.

Albright became the highest ranking woman U.S. history when she was appointed to the position of U.S. Secretary of State in 1997 by President Bill Clinton. Before that becoming secretary of state, Albright was the U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations. Albright was not only the first female Secretary of State, but also the first top diplomat to turn jewelry into a communication tool. 

Pins are not discussed in any diplomatic handbook, but Albright's quick wit and sense of humor made her jewelry into a useful diplomatic tool.  It was during her time as ambassador that Albright began to use her jewelry, specifically her brooches, as a means of sending non-verbal pointed messages and opening lines of communication with world leaders. “It would never have happened if not for Saddam Hussein,” she wrote in her book, Read My Pins: Stories From a Diplomat’s Jewel Box.  Albright recalls that it all began in 1993, just after the Gulf War: 

"It all began when I was at the United Nations. It was right after the Gulf War and the United States was pressing for resolutions sanctioning Iraq. During that time I had something dreadful to say about Saddam Hussein on a daily basis, which he deserved because he had invaded Kuwait. The government-controlled Iraqi media then compared me to an “unparalleled serpent.” I happened to have a snake pin, and wore it to my next meeting on Iraq. When the press asked me about it, I thought, “Well, this is fun.” I was the only woman on the Security Council, and I decided to get some more costume jewelry."

Serpent Pin, circa 1860. An eighteen-carat gold snake coiled around a branch, with a diamond dangling from its mouth.

A second brooch reinforced her approach. This brooch was a blue bird. Until the twenty-fourth of February 1996, she wore the pin with the bird's head soaring upward. On the afternoon of that day, Cuban fighter pilots shot down two unarmed civilian aircraft over international waters between Cuba and Florida. Three American citizens and one legal resident were killed. At a press conference, Albright denounced both the crime and the perpetrators, "I was especially angered by the macho celebration at the time of the killings. "This is not cojones," I said, "it is cowardice."" To illustrate her feelings, she wore the bird pin with its head pointing down, in mourning. Her comment departed from the niceties of normal diplomatic discourse, and caused an uproar. Albright held her ground. She says of the incident that, "As a rule, I prefer polite talk, but there are moments when only plain speaking will do."

Albright's brooches were often her way of "plain speaking" without saying a word, and over time reporters, staffers and world leaders learned to read her pins. "As it turned out, there were just a lot of occasions to either commemorate a particular event or to signal how I felt," she says. On good days, she wore flowers, butterflies, and balloons, and on bad days, all kinds of bugs and carnivorous animals. Jewelry became part of her personal diplomatic arsenal and everyone had taken notice.  

"I had an arrow pin that looked like a missile, and when we were negotiating the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty with the Russians, the Russian foreign minister asked, “Is that one of your missile interceptors you’re wearing?” And I responded, “Yes. We make them very small. Let’s negotiate.” Or, after we found that the Russians had planted a listening device—a “bug”—into a conference room near my office in the State Department, the next time I saw the Russians, I wore this huge bug. They got the message." 

Blue Bird, circa 1880. Anton Lachmann, Austria. Photo by JohnBigelow Taylor.Albright wore this blue-bird pin when, in 1996, airplanes carrying four Cuban-Americanfliers were shot down off the coast of Florida. 

Interceptor missile. 1998. Lisa Vershbow. USA.Albright wore this Interceptor missile pin when she visited the Russian president,Vladimir Putin.

Albright has said that she loved expressing herself with her jewels, and that making fashion statements — and commenting on each other's attire — is not completely unheard of within a diplomatic setting:

"You think that the heads of state only have serious conversations, [but] they actually often begin really with the weather or, 'I really like your tie.' "

That being said I think I can safely say that the former Secretary of State's brooches are far more intriguing than conversations about the weather, because behind every brooch are a thousand plainly spoken words.

This peace dove, ca. 1997, by Cécile et Jeanne of France, was a gift from Leah Rabin, widow of
Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. Among Albright’s favorites, the pin symbolizes the goal—peace in the Holy Land—“for which the prime minister had given his life,” she wrote.

Bee, Designer Unknown, USA. c. 1980.  Photo by John Bigelow Taylor.For a meeting with Yasser Arafat, Albright wore this bee pin. She writes, "I spent manyhours wrangling with the Palestinian leader about the need for compromise in the MiddleEast. My pin reflected my mood." (He sent her a butterfly.) 

"Because I am by nature a worried optimist (as opposed to a contented pessimist), I found many opportunities to wear my brooch of a brilliantly shining sun,” Albright wrote. This “Sunburst,” of gilded brass, was made in 1987 by Hervé van der Straeten of France.

“I was proud to be the first woman to serve as secretary of state. ... This is a pin showing the glass ceiling in its ideal condition: shattered.” The pin, called “Breaking the Glass Ceiling,” was made around 1997 by American artist Vivian Shimoyama, of dichroic and painted glass.

If you want to read more about Madeine Albright's pins and diplomacy I encourage you to buy her book. 

Iradj Moini Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, See No Evil, 2000. "When I went to Russia with President Bill Clinton for a summit, I wore a pin with the hear-no-evil, see-no-evil, speak-no evil monkeys, because the Russians never would talk about what was really going on during their conflict with Chechnya. President Vladimir Putin asked why I was wearing those monkeys. I said, because of your Chechnya policy. He was not amused."


How do you wear a torc? From the British Museum

The Snettisham Great Torc. Found in Snettisham, UK. Electrum, 150 BC–50 BC. Diam. 19.9 cm. British Museum 1951,0402.2. (Photo: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum)

We've all seen these historical beauties, whether in museums or in articles, heavy gold torcs sometimes with elaborate designs. But have you ever wondered how you would wear such an item?
The British Museum recently addressed this issue in their blog.

How do you put on a torc?

Julia Farley, Curator, European Iron Age collection, British Museum; January 29, 2015

Although this is one of the most famous examples, the form is typical: open at the front, with a flexible neck-ring made of coiled or twisted wires. This type of torc is put on and taken off by being bent out of shape. You can see that one of the terminals of this torc has been pulled slightly forward compared to the other one. This is the result of it being repeatedly pulled open to be slipped on. A re-enactor friend of mine has told me that he often puts a torc on from the front, and then twists it round to bring the terminals to the front. I’ve tried with replicas, and I tend to slip mine on from the back, so there are different ways of doing it.

This constant flexing caused a lot of stress to the metal neck rings of the torc. When you bend metal in this way, it tends to harden and become brittle. You may have experienced this first hand if you have ever wanted to break off a piece of wire for hanging a picture or working in the garden and did this by bending it back and forth until it broke. The same thing happened to some torcs. We have many examples of truly beautiful neck-rings which were worn to destruction – taken on and off so many times that they broke at the back. They have often been somewhat clumsily repaired, as in this case:

(Photo: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum)


The break is covered with a thin sheet of gold foil, but X-radiography of the torc shows that all the wires have snapped! Torcs were quite fragile objects, and they were frequently broken and then repaired in this way. This is curious, because there was an easy way to avoid the problem. If you anneal the metal – heat it up to cherry-red temperature, around 600-700 degrees centigrade – it re-softens. This would have been a simple matter with the technology available. So why were so many torcs allowed to break? And why do the repairs often look like shoddy afterthoughts? I wonder if being the proud owner of a ‘vintage’ torc (old enough to be in need of flamboyant repairs) might have been something to be proud of. Rather than an unfortunate accident, breakage could have been part of the natural lifecycle of a torc. The repaired torc pictured above was buried in a hoard with many other, much newer, ones. By the time it went into the ground, it was probably an heirloom object, perhaps as much as 100 years old. It would have been possible to carry out much more subtle repairs, but perhaps they were supposed to be obvious? Being a member of a family with such a long history of wealth and power was probably a source of great pride, and the repairs might have emphasised the age of the object, and reminded people of the many stories attached to it.

On the Continent, there are other types of torc, which sometimes have clever hidden clasps, hinges, or removable sections such as these ones:

(Photo: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum)

When worn they would have given the impression of a solid ring of metal, but in fact they were relatively easy to put on and take off.

The idea of a hinge was taken up in later British neck-rings found in south-western Britain. They have a discreet hinge at the back, and a clasp at the front that was hidden when the terminals were closed.

(Photo: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum)

From these kinds of evidence, I strongly suspect that torcs were put on and taken off quite regularly, rather than being intended to be worn for very long periods of time. The most decorative were probably worn for special occasions, and some of the simpler designs may have been for everyday wear. But we have so little evidence for what constituted ‘day-to-day wear’ in the Iron Age that it’s hard to be sure.

But there are some torcs which I don’t think could be opened up, such as this one from Trichtingen in Germany, also in the Celts exhibition:

Torc. Silver, iron, 200–50 BC. Trichtingen, Germany. Diam. 29.5 cm. (Photo: P. Frankenstein/H. Zweitasch; (c) Landesmuseum Wurttemberg, Stuttgart 2015)

The gap isn’t wide enough to squeeze your head in, and there is a solid iron core under the silver, so it couldn’t have been bent. It also weighs nearly seven kilos! And if you did wear it, which way up would it go? It seems designed to be viewed upright, like in the picture. But with the terminals at the back the bulls would have been hidden, and with the terminals at the front their heads would be upside down, not to mention how uncomfortable those horns would be, sticking into your collar bone…

I think it’s most likely that torcs such as the one above weren’t worn at all. They might have been symbols of status to be brandished aloft, rather than worn around the neck, just like the way that the antlered god on this plaque from the Gundestrup cauldron hefts a torc into the air, terminals upright. However it was used, the torc was obviously a powerful symbol.

Cauldron. Silver, partially gilded, 100 BC–AD 1. Gundestrup, Denmark. Diam. 69 cm; H. 42 cm. (c) The National Museum of Denmark.

Cauldron. Silver, partially gilded, 100 BC–AD 1. Gundestrup, Denmark. Diam. 69 cm; H. 42 cm. (c) The National Museum of Denmark.

Read the entire article HERE
The museum's companion book (Celts: art and identity exhibition catalogue) is available for purchase as well HERE

Menswear Jewelry

Cartier Art Deco Ruby Diamond Stick Pin available from Steven Fox Jewelry

Cartier Art Deco Ruby Diamond Stick Pin available from Steven Fox Jewelry

Signet I purchased for my Signifigant Other from Digby and Iona

Signet I purchased for my Signifigant Other from Digby and Iona

I have to say, I’ve been waiting for the trend of men's “brooches”/”pins” to come to the US! I love the look, just like I love pinky signets that seem to be everywhere these days!

The stylish and often vintage pieces that we saw (and I adored) added individuality and interest to otherwise seemingly identical tuxedos. It is a wonderful alternative to a boutonniere or even a pocket square.  
As my Significant Other calls them "metal flowers", have been a worn in Europe for some time now and it's nice to see the sparkle has finally crossed the pond. 

 

Signet rings have been around since ancient Mesopotamia. They were also used as seal rings to seal letters with the mark of the sender (in wax as a mark of authentication).
In modern times they 
have traditionally been worn on the left hand (and sometimes accompanied by a small wedding band). They are usually engraved with a family crest or initials. Today the are rarely used for sealing documents, but they have continued to be viewed as the “mark of the gentleman.”

Kathleen Marino M.A, G.G., AJP, NAJA