The Diamond Culture

In the diamond culture, a person's value is determined by their material worth. If you're rich, by default you're more sought-after and much more popular...

5 min

Racheli Reckles

Posted on 10.10.23

One day, a few months after I got married, I took a girlfriend of mine to the local jewelry exchange to get my engagement ring cleaned. You see, it wasn’t just any engagement ring – it was a gorgeous 3-carat round solitaire that was so dazzling, I could have used it to put people into a trance and have them obey my every command. On the other hand, I could have used it to temporarily blind someone that was annoying me, simply by shining my diamond in his eyes. Oh, I fondly remember nearly hitting many a car because I was so taken by the sparkling rainbow of colors as I held my left hand out of the window and stared at my diamond instead of watching the road. In retrospect, I guess that wasn’t such a good idea.
 
Anyway, the three of us (me, my girlfriend, and my diamond) walked up to a random booth and I asked the guy to clean it for me. He took it and gave me a suspicious glance before he walked away. My friend didn’t catch that look, but I sure did. My heart started pounding. I started getting anxious. Time seemed to stop as I desperately tried not to sweat profusely from the humiliation I knew was coming.
 
An eternity later, the guy comes back with a concerned look on his face. Looking right into my eyes, he said, “Do you know that this diamond is fake?” I tried to feign surprise. “W-w-w-what?? It’s f-f-f-fake?” I stuttered, as I nearly passed out from embarrassment. I didn’t dare look at my friend, who was probably jumping out of her skin with scandalous excitement. “Idiot!” I thought, as I shot him the look of death. I quickly grabbed the ring and slid it back on my finger. As I ran out the door, I did a quick superhero turnaround with my fist pointed straight at him in order to blind him with my ring. Alas, Idiotman had an invisible force field around him that protected him from being blinded by The Light.
 
As we walked back to the car, I reluctantly revealed the secret to my friend. Of course I knew it was fake! It happened to be the best fake on the market, but nonetheless, it was still a fake. I explained that I didn’t see the point of spending tens of thousands of dollars on a piece of rock, albeit a gorgeous piece of rock. And, since I didn’t want to spend that kind of money on a large diamond, why should I deprive myself of the joy of having the ring I want? After all, isn’t everything an illusion?
 
She agreed with my point of view, at least in theory. However, I didn’t see her running to get her overpriced ring switched out for a more practical version. The point of this scenario, I later realized, is that I was embarrassed to have a fake ring.
 
Fast forward 10 years. This Shabbat a great miracle happened, almost as big as the miracle of Chanukah – I got to leave the house to go for a walk in the afternoon. Okay, so the miracle wasn’t that big, since I had two of my kids with me. After pushing the stroller up and down the street for a while, I decided to visit a friend who lives nearby.
 
I was wearing my newest diamond ring, a stunning 3.5-carat round solitaire with micro-pave diamonds on the band. Incidentally, do you know how hard it was to push a double stroller with one hand while admiring the other hand as I held it out in front? Let me tell you, it’s no easy feat!
 
As I tried not to trip down the stairs while angling my hand this way and that, a wickedly funny idea occurred to me. Why don’t I make my ring very obvious, just to see if she’ll make a comment on the gargantuan size of the diamond? After all, it’s almost unheard of for a woman to walk around wearing such an obnoxiously large stone.
 
Soon after I sat down on her couch, we started talking about random stuff. I quickly put my idea into action. I scratched my nose. I rubbed my eyelids. I yawned. I adjusted my tichel (hair-covering). She gave me a few politely questioning looks, as if wondering if she were boring the heck out of me, or if I was coming down with something. But she didn’t comment on the ring.
 
The point of scenario two was that I couldn’t wait to tell her that the diamond was fake!
 
Funny – in both scenarios I ended up looking like a fool. Great. I just realized that.
 
What’s the moral of this ridiculous story? I’m not sure, but I can share with you my observation. These two scenarios clearly revealed the value system in each society. You have the western, materialist culture society, or what I call the “Diamond Culture.” In the diamond culture, a person’s value is determined by their material worth. If you’re rich, by default you’re more sought-after and popular. Even the IRS wants you! You’re hot stuff! If you’re not rich, then you had better do your best to make others think that you are rich! So what if you’re driving around in a car that has a higher monthly payment than your apartment? And do you really care if your wardrobe makes your college loans look like a joke? After all, you’ve got to look good if you want to be part of the right crowd!
 
A friend of mine from New York summed it up perfectly: “You have to wear your most expensive sheitel (wig) and clothing just to go to the store to buy some bread and milk.”
 
Here, in Israel, there certainly are plenty of places that have superficial people living superficial lives. However, there are arguably more places that have real people who couldn’t care less about impressing others. My town is a great example of that. The majority of people here aren’t dressing to impress, nor are they buying cars that they can’t afford. If the house is messy, they aren’t falling over themselves with excuses that the “maid” suspiciously didn’t show up this week. I feel that life is more real here.
 
Friends, if you’re tired of living in the diamond culture, it’s time to make aliyah. People might say that things are more expensive here, but think of the money you can save since you won’t be trying to impress anyone! No one’s going to look twice if you’re driving a beat-up old hunk of junk. In reality, the question people ask is not, “What kind of car do you have?” It’s, “Do you have a car?”
 
Of course, I can’t neglect to mention the effect this will have on your children. You will be doing them a massive favor by teaching them to live within their means. For the first time, they will see that it’s not the norm for every teenager to have an iPhone! The biggest plus is that they won’t be nagging you for a car, since almost no teenager has their own car. If I were the mother of teenagers, I would be taking the next plane over!
 
Come to Israel, and relieve yourself of the materialistic burden you’ve been carrying your entire life. Here, you will be accepted, just as you are! (Seriously, Nefesh b’Nefesh should be paying me for this…)

Tell us what you think!

1. Dassie

9/16/2014

Great point. I really agree. One of the many aspects I love about living in Israel is how easy it is to avoid the extreme gashmiut (and its accompanying hechsher/justification: "L'shem mitzvah!"). I really can't imagine the pressure involved in putting on a fancy suit, jewelry, full make-up, and custom shaytel just to walk down the street; or to buy the MOST designer stroller; or to host a bris the MUST include both milchig and then fleshig. And so on. Of course, it's not like that everywhere in America, but it's REALLY not like that almost anywhere in Eretz Yisrael!

2. Dassie

9/16/2014

I really agree. One of the many aspects I love about living in Israel is how easy it is to avoid the extreme gashmiut (and its accompanying hechsher/justification: "L'shem mitzvah!"). I really can't imagine the pressure involved in putting on a fancy suit, jewelry, full make-up, and custom shaytel just to walk down the street; or to buy the MOST designer stroller; or to host a bris the MUST include both milchig and then fleshig. And so on. Of course, it's not like that everywhere in America, but it's REALLY not like that almost anywhere in Eretz Yisrael!

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