
“For me, brooches have always been jewelry worn by my grandmother,” says Birgit Duval, a South African jewelry artist and goldsmith, “but when I started designing my own pieces and began experimenting, I felt something crack and this old belief just disappeared. ” Duval isn’t the only one with this sentiment. The brooch is back. Or did it ever disappear? We’ll let the facts and the jewelry speak for themselves.
But first, a little history. the word brooch comes from the medieval French word broche, used to describe a roasting fork used to roast meat over a fire. Looking further back, we find that it actually derives from the Latin word brocchus, which means to stand out. Why this linguistic detour? Because it points to the primary use of the brooch: as a fastener for clothing, which archaeologists believe dates back to the Iron Age. Conquest or adventure drove migration flows throughout Europe, which meant that Anglo-Saxons, Vikings and Moors encountered a range of technical and artistic traditions and developed their own styles. Gems, enamels and depictions of flora all became standard in the curriculum. During the 7th to 9th centuries, the so-called Golden Age of the Irish Celtic (or semicircular) brooch, the aesthetic was governed by a “go big or go home” approach. The decorative motifs of the famous Tara Brooch brooch reached dizzying proportions, with the epitome of beautiful form complimenting basic function.

Fast-forward to 2022 and into the Paris atelier of fine jeweler Emmanuel Tarpin, who has been keeping the brooch alive – but definitely modern – by offering craftsmanship and creativity. “Brooches are really interesting and I use the concept a lot in the making, experimenting with size, volume, color and materials,” says Tarpin, whose work includes the wheat ears, a return to the brooch’s medieval period (no mechanism, just spikes “that pierce where you want them to brooch”) but with a 2.6-carat yellow diamond and 18 and 22 carats of gold to achieve a textured effect. Then there is his hydrangea brooch, an ode to the flora, which is based on the old technique of pairing contrasting metals, ceramics and stones, but raises the stakes with a special mechanism that allows the flowers to move in a naturalistic way.

When does jewelry become a work of art? This is an important question, especially when some brooches have become supporting characters in a larger narrative. Take, for example, the legendary Cartier emerald and diamond brooch created by American heiress Marjorie Merriweather Post in 1928 on the eve of the Great Depression. It is a testament both to the great wealth of the 1920s and to cultural exchange – those carved emeralds were a technique associated with India and incorporated into Cartier’s design language of dubbing after Jacques Cartier’s visit to the country for Delhi in 1911. Or the Duchess of Windsor’s flamingo brooch (also by Cartier) commissioned by the Duke of Windsor after the outbreak of World War II, perhaps the most glorious example of rationing: the

For the art of Choca, a jewelry company founded by John Ringer and Francesca Adekoya, separating art from jewelry was impossible. “Once we started making brooches, we didn’t want to make anything else; we saw them as sculptures,” Adekoya says. In their London studio, the pair create pieces that are sometimes Zoomorphic (animals, an old favorite of brooch classics that first appeared in the 2nd century and have never been cooler) and pay homage to the contemporary art scene, their bodywork crossing borders evident in the title of the piece itself. “United” is a meditation on motherhood, depicting a baby pangolin and its mother on a skateboard, while the frog has become a sort of domestic muse, either suspended from a ceramic balloon perched on a golden sheaf of wheat studded with citrine, or just alone, accompanying the wearer.

As for the brooch placement dilemma, it’s safe to say that anything can happen. Contemporary and historical precedents support this. Jewelry artist Francesca Grima, who was known as the “father of modern jewelry” during her lifetime, is perplexed by Andrew Grima. “I don’t understand being restricted,” she says. “Wear it in the pocket of your jeans, wear it on the strap of your undershirt, pin it where you like, and have fun with it. This brooch should be hailed as the most functional piece of jewelry in your box.” Known for her textured gold thread pieces, which Francesca boldly pins on her new sneakers, Grima Sr. is equally rambunctious about her own designs. Even brooches made of the finest Mediterranean red coral, gold and diamonds are not limited to formal occasions.

During the Roman Empire, men wore fibulae, the precursor to brooches – think super ornate safety pins – to hold the fabric in place and secure it to the right shoulder. For European aristocrats and royalty, the preference shifted to left-hand placement, at the level of the lapel, reasoning that court life required so much saluting that the frequent use of the right hand meant that jewelry had a better advantage on the left. For romantics, a brooch on the left was more flattering. And for those in mourning, the Cameo brooch centrally placed in the hair of the deceased was an optional addition – reaching peak popularity in the Victorian era before being relaunched by Alessandro Michele at Gucci in the last decade. weeping, but making it fashionable.
All of which suggests that the brooch has never really gone away and has in fact been flourishing. But why is that? Frank Everett, senior vice president of jewelry at Sotheby’s New York, has a theory: “The brooch is the purest form created by the designer because it is not hindered by the requirement to fit the neck, wrist or fingers.” Inherently inclusive before consideration, because they can literally and metaphorically morph to reflect the needs and desires of each generation.
“I wear a brooch almost every day, some borrowed and some of my own,” says Everett, a lifelong brooch wearer. “Flowers are my favorite, like the never-ending corsage! I especially love the 19th century silver-topped gold floral sprays with old cut stones, the Art Deco-style diamond double clips and the 1940s vintage brooches in highly polished gold. At this point, I really feel like I’m undressing without my brooch.”