A bit like rosebuds, scarabs have faded on the vine. And in popularity. They’re currently and ignobly pegged as “vintage and/or “estate.” Neither term bodes well for longevity. Or further production. So Carpe Diem. Time’s a wastin’. Get’em while you can.
If you’re under forty….or fifty… you may not know what a scarab is. And, I, for one, feel a bit sorry for you if that’s the case. But those of you over fifty? Well, you know of what I speak.
My cousin, Ann, who is much better at recall than I am, made reference to her scarab bracelet just the other day and it all came rushing back. Then I, myself, went rushing to my jewelry box to make sure my scarabs were still where I thought they were. Happy day! There they were, way in the back of the box but safe and sound, nevertheless.
And, I might add, looking just as snappy and colorful as they were when they were “in.” All those many years ago.
I’m pulling my own scarabs out of storage as I write this. Sadly, I have no McMullen blouses, saddle shoes or circle pins to wear with them. And if those things don’t ring bells with you, well, I can only do so much explaining in one little space.