“I Only Wear Gold”

By Khasya Tinglin

        Since I was born, I’ve been adorned in only the finest of gold.

        When I was only a few months old, my parents pierced my earlobes, putting in dainty gold Huggies as “baby’s first staple.” As a toddler, my mother's best friend gifted me – or rather my mother — a thin, pure gold bangle from India.

        I have no idea where either are now, but perhaps they kickstarted a fascination with wearing gold jewelry.

        Gold matches the reflection in my sunkissed skin, makes my obsidian-brown eyes shine, and matches my soul. Gold is the color of the Queen of Sheba, honey in the sunlight, Mansa Musa, fae in romantasy novels, wedding rings, and the Egyptian empire. I may be “cool-toned” and told that silver suits my undertones better, but gold suits my soul better. Sorry to the silver girlies, but it only looks good on some people, and I am not one of them.

        Black people have always been tied to ‘yellow gold’, despite the small gold reserves in Africa. Uncles wear gold chains, rappers wear gold grills, R&B artists wear large gold bangles and hoops, and aunties get foot massages with gold foil (for some reason). Yellow gold was rarely seen adorning people of the white upper class historically, but in recent years, they’ve turned away from their soft, white gold in favor of the harsher gold that only lower-class, non-white people wore up until recent trends. White gold is seen as a timeless, understated luxury while yellow gold is seen as a loud and obnoxious attempt at luxury — think nouveau riche or that guy who finally got a Hellcat and makes sure everyone knows. Maybe this changed because the internet allows for culture and trends to spread more rapidly, or maybe it’s the inevitable fashion cycle where what minority groups wear becomes gentrified and ‘in-fashion.’

        Culturally, gold is often passed down in African diaspora households as family heirlooms, especially for women. These heirlooms are used to connect with ancestors, symbolizing family traditions and customs. Some families may only buy earrings to pass down, others only buy bangles. Some of the craftsmanship — knots, loops, symbols — represent gifts of prosperity, fertility, and protection from the ancestors.
       
        Other times, the gold is used in spiritual ceremonies. Demons and malignant spirits have been tied to gold, and thus gold must be returned, buried, or otherwise discarded in order to banish the spirit. However, gold can also be a preemptive protector from spirits, and the creation of gold adornments can be a social event, where craftsmen’s working times could be used as an excuse to gather and admire — most notably in Guinea.

        As a child of the diaspora, specifically the Caribbean but more connected to African American culture, I’m not intricately tied to heirlooms or religious gold. But for my household – and many others – gold is bought as insurance. Gold is not only a symbol of prosperity and prestige, but its value rarely decreases. It’s a fairly reliable asset that has been held in regard for centuries, and regardless of society progressing to other forms of currency — paper, credit, and Bitcoin — gold is still largely held in esteem and can always be sold for something.

        As rap and hip-hop became ‘mainstream,’ many artists would wear ostentatious gold chains, stacking thick gold bands on top of one another with pendants dangling from them. Mr. T comes to mind first and foremost, with his chains practically forming a protecting chainmail scarf around his neck. I’ve seen a few rumors on Quora — “super reliable,” I know — that artists wore chains because they would not be confiscated on arrest and could be used for bail. Of course, that is just some random person on Quora making this claim, but it doesn’t seem that far-fetched since it connects back to gold being seen as insurance for much of the diaspora.

        Black African American women have also always worn gold jewelry. Perhaps it has gotten bigger, smaller, more intricate, or brighter, but it has been a staple in outfits for generations. During slave times, it was the little bit of autonomy they could protect, and now it’s an expression of personal style, heritage, and pride.

        Today, even Black girls at UT find themselves drawn to gold. Ayah Hassan (@ayajoot on Instagram) talks about how gold, deeply rooted in her Sudanese culture, wasn’t always her first choice. She typically wore silver until she “started exploring fashion more and reconnecting with [her] culture.” Then, she began mixing the metals rather than sticking with just one.

        Ayah also ties what metal she wears to what outfit she is wearing, like many other Black girls. However, she says that “...recently, [she’s] become too attached to [her] gold jewelry that [she tries] to incorporate it even if silver would look better.” 

        Unlike Ayah, Mariam Jalloh (@mari4mj on Instagram) says her love for gold has been constant throughout her life, inspired by her mother and aunt passing down jewelry to her from a young age. “When compared to silver, gold has this effortless glow,” Mariam says. She notes that while she does own silver pieces, she only wears it when the occasion calls for it and she leans towards gold for her everyday outfits.

        Both Ayah and Mariam primarily wear yellow/21k gold — the gold that is typically associated with Black women.

        Now, I am not a silver hater, and neither are most other Black girlies. My Pinterest feed has been full of metal mixing this year, and I’m inclined to try it out. Silver, to me, feels like a skirt you only wear when the party has a certain theme or like a Halloween costume. It has its place for me — like at Chrome-themed SPARK parties — but it has never fully wormed its way into my heart or my jewelry box.

        However, I’m not unwilling to try. While I say I don’t care about undertones, I do admit that my interest has been piqued when labeled ‘cool-toned’ — though, humbly, I think I’m neutral-toned. So perhaps one day I’ll thrift enough silver bangles and rings for my mind to be changed.

        Silver girlies — change my mind.

        Regardless of history or undertones, wear whatever metal brings you joy — Black girls look good no matter what they wear. ■