Of all the things I expected to be a glamorous experience when I first got engaged, picking my wedding ring was up there. I imagined I’d most likely be sipping champagne whilst dressed to the nines and wearing a ring on each finger. In reality I was tired, wearing grubby work clothes after a 10 hour shift and actually encountered some of the worst customer service I’ve ever had – all because I was, at that time, wearing braces and the sale assistant obviously couldn’t see past those.
Anyway, we did eventually pick a ring that day (despite the terrible service we had left it
a little WAY late with the ring picking and it was an order-now-or-improvise-on-the-day kind of scenario, which definitely wasn’t an option) and needless to say I adore it, but the experience I had was far from the one I pictured.
And in my haste to get my ring sorted, I probably neglected a lot of the most important things that I should have been concentrating on when picking it. Did you know there are 11 different types of metal you can choose from? No, neither did I. And did you sit and ponder the cut, clarity, colour and carat in the diamonds you wanted? Nope, I didn’t do that either. Once that sample ring was on my finger I was whipping Mr. B’s credit card out quicker than you could say ‘there’s a sale at Primark’ and that, my friends, was that. There was nothing special about the experience – in fact, it was actually a little stressful and we probably ended up paying over the odds for a ring (albeit beautiful) that we could have shopped around for. So much so that Mr. B’s wedding ring ended up being a £30-from-eBay number (not that he cares, he’d probably wear an onion ring and be happy).
Admittedly, the type of wedding ring I ended up with was pre-determined by my engagement ring, so shopping for it was more a case of looking within our budget, but still – I expected it to be something more than it was. And the annoying thing is, it could have been what I wanted it to be, if only I’d done my research. Had I thought outside of the box a little and not assumed that we could only buy my wedding ring from a high street jeweller then we might have a) got better service and b) both got rings we were happy with and not had to compromise on price.
Enter Wedding Rings Direct. If you’re struggling with how to pick your wedding rings at the moment, then I would certainly suggest you check this particular Brighton-based company out. Not only are the prices cheaper than conventional high street jewellers (because they are, essentially, an online workshop), but bespoke is their speciality – and there is so. much. choice. Literally, I wouldn’t even know where to start if I were doing it form scratch.
Admittedly, when I first read about how they worked I was slightly dubious – people actually order their wedding rings online?! But once I’d sat and read through their blog (which has some super cute stories about the couples they’ve worked with, FYI – and who doesn’t love to be nosey) I completely got the concept.
What these people know about jewels is endless, and the advice on their blog alone has certainly made me a bit more confident about buying jewellery in the future and knowing what to look out for. For those ordering online, samples are sent out for you to try before you buy, and the designers will work with you every step of the way to make sure you end up with the design you want. For those wanting to actually sit and talk to someone, or who literally have no idea where to start, you can take a trip to their workshop to discuss your ideas with the sales team. They even offer loads of great advice for men who want to propose but aren’t sure how to keep it all a secret!
Luckily, it’s not too late for me to relive the dream of ring picking – I’m pretty sure if I hint (it’s not nagging people, definitely NOT nagging) enough then an eternity ring may be on the cards for the first wedding anniversary, and if that’s the case then I definitely don’t want the experience I had last time. Now to find where Mr. B has hidden that credit card…
*PR collaboration – all thoughts, opinions and feeble attempts at humour are, of course, my own.