bakelite dreams.

Happy Monday, DFM! I thought I’d kick off the new week with a bit of vintage costume jewelry love, a fetish I had reserved in my mind for old cat ladies and child beauty queens, but BOY, did it bite me back.

About a year ago I purchased my first bakelite cameo at the Santa Monica flea market (which is to die for, by the way) and I have been pretty ridiculously addicted since that fateful day. I wear the crap out of that necklace. If it wasn’t the least uncomfortable to sleep with, I’d clutch that baby until dawn.

Anyway, I’ve been pretty much addicted to vintage bakelite ever since. And this morning while cleaning out my bookmarks, I perused True Faux before I bid farewell to my painfully pricey addiction.

But alas, I spotted this:

Yes, that is a Gerda Lynggaard ring circa 1970. Which is pretty much the Atlantis of all jewelry. And man, if I didn’t have a mortgage to pay I would be severely tempted.

If you’re in the budget for a new ring, and that budget exceeds $100, give Gerda a new home.

And then send it to me when you’re done with it.