The Eye of St Lucia: Operculum charms of the Western Mediterranean

The Eye of St Lucia: Operculum charms of the Western Mediterranean

by | European jewellery, Magic & Amulets

eye beads

The Eye of St Lucia: Operculum charms of the Western Mediterranean

Published October 7, 2026

Eye beads have been popular worldwide for many reasons, as I wrote about earlier. There are many materials that occur naturally that resemble an eye, and I wanted to explore several of these in separate articles, because each of them has its own story to tell! And in this blog, I’d like to introduce an eye-charm that is very popular in the Western Mediterranean: the operculum known as the Eye of St Lucia.

What is an operculum?

An operculum is one of those brilliant inventions of nature: basically, it is a little built-in “door” to close a shell of a gastropod. They are most often seen in marine snails, but some freshwater snails and even some land snail species use them as well. When the snail living in the shell retreats itself completely in to its shell, the operculum closes over the shell opening. It is attached to the animal itself, not to the shell wall; imagine having your own front door permanently attached to your body and you’ll get the idea. The operculum closes the shell when the animal is inside, and so helps protect it. The gallery below shows examples of what that looks like.

This little ‘door’ grows on and with the snail itself. When the animal dies, the tissue that connects the operculum to the snail decays (or is cut away by humans), and the operculum becomes a separate element. And humans have loved this piece of nature to create jewellery with!

Why does an operculum look like an eye?

How does the operculum resemble an eye? The beautiful thing is that it does on both its sides.

One side resembles a human eye, with a dark central area like an iris surrounded by white. This is the inside of the operculum, and the place where it was attached to the animal itself. In the gallery above, you’ll see an example of what that looks like.

The opposite, outer face was exposed when the snail withdrew into its shell and used the operculum like a little door. Here, it is the spiral-form that sometimes is interpreted as an eye, much like we refer to the centre of a hurricane as the ‘eye’ of the storm. That spiral is a record of growth: beginning from a small nucleus, the operculum enlarged by adding new material around its edge as the snail grew, producing successive whorls. Above, you’ll see different forms of such spirals.

So, one side resembles an eye through its dark iris, while the other does so through its rounded form and natural spiral. In the western Mediterranean, one particular species was very popular as amulet against the evil eye, and that is the operculum of Bolma rugosa.

The Eye of St Lucia: Bolma rugosa as a Mediterranean amulet

The operculum of Bolma rugosa has a characteristic shape. During the lifetime of this sea snail, calcium carbonate is deposited into the operculum, with a hard, round, calcified disc as result. It was widely used as an amulet in what seems to be the western Mediterranean: it occurs frequently in Spain, southern France, and Italy. It is mainly known as the Eye of Saint Lucia, but locally, several other names exist. So, let’s have a look at the use of opercula in the western Mediterranean!

The Eye of St Lucia in Spain: ollomao, haba de mar, Pedra de santa Llucia

Spain has a very early use for opercula: in a Neolithic burial site at Bòbila Madurell, opercula were found, which may have served as amulets of some sort. [1] In 1746, the operculum of Bolma rugosa was mentioned as an amulet for eye problems in Galicia, where it was called the ‘eye of the sea ox’. [2] Other sources for Galicia refer to it as ollomao, and consider it an amulet against the evil eye (mal de ojo), a good luck charm, and a cure against headaches. [3] On the Balearic Islands, the operculum is known as Pedra de santa Llucia, or Pedra de sant Jaume, and it is used against eye diseases. [4]

The Eye of St Lucia in France and Corsica: l’Oeuil de Sainte Lucie

In France, opercula are worn as amulets in southern mainland France and on Corsica. Here, it is generally called l’Oeuil de Sainte Lucie. Interestingly, its meaning seems to vary regionally. On the Provencal coast and in the city of Marseille, they are mainly used as good luck charm, and notably worn in wallets or placed in cash registers. [5]

On Corsica, it features more heavily as amulet against the evil eye and against headaches, showing a closer relation to its meaning in Spain.

The Eye of St Lucia in Italy and Sardinia: Occhio di Santa Lucia

In Italy the use of opercula as amulets is widespread. In southern Italy, the operculum was used as an amulet against nosebleeds in the 19th century. [6] On Sardinia, the operculum is set in silver and worn as amulet pendant for a variety of reasons, such as eye diseases and improving eyesight, but also to protect small children from the evil eye and to ease childbirth. The eye of Santa Lucia is also known in the north, such as this example from Venice shows.

Where are Eye of St Lucia operculum charms not found?

As this species occurs widely in the western Mediterranean, you would expect its operculum to be used widely as well. But that does not seem to be the case. For Malta for example, I have not yet found reliable sources showing Bolma rugosa opercula worn as amulets.

The same applies, even more importantly, to North Africa. Bolma rugosa occurs down the eastern Atlantic coast toward Morocco and is recorded in the Mediterranean, including Tunisia. But I am currently not aware of the use of its operculum as an amulet, while North Africa possesses abundant eye, hand and shell amulets.

So…in case you know of any, please do drop me a line!

What does the Eye of St Lucia amulet mean?

You will have noticed there is an important difference in what the operculum amulet does.

In Corsica and Sardinia it strongly functions as an anti-evil-eye/good-luck amulet. In Provence prosperity and good fortune are conspicuous. In Spain, especially in older evidence, its resemblance to an eye often produces a more literal folk-medical logic: protecting or curing eyes, headaches and sometimes ears. In Galicia, the two traditions converge: it cures headaches and protects against the evil eye.

Just because it looks like an eye, does not automatically mean it carries exactly the same symbolism everywhere. The same natural “eye” can be an amulet against envy in one place, an eye-healing charm in another, and a prosperity charm somewhere else.

As always, jewellery needs to be considered in its own cultural context: there is never a one-explanation-fits-all-bead, and that makes jewellery such a fascinating field of study!

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Frequently asked questions about the Eye of St Lucia

What is the Eye of St Lucia?

The Eye of St Lucia is the calcified operculum of the marine snail Bolma rugosa. An operculum is the small protective ‘door’ attached to the animal that closes the opening of its shell when the snail withdraws inside.

Why does the Eye of St Lucia look like an eye?

Both sides of the operculum can suggest an eye. One side has a darker central area surrounded by white, while the other carries a natural spiral formed as the operculum grows with the snail.

Where was the Eye of St Lucia used as an amulet?

Bolma rugosa opercula were used as amulets in parts of the western Mediterranean, including Spain, southern France, Corsica, Italy and Sardinia. Local names and uses varied from region to region.

What does the Eye of St Lucia amulet mean?

There is no single meaning for the Eye of St Lucia. In Corsica and Sardinia it was associated with protection against the evil eye and good fortune, while in Provence it was especially linked with prosperity. In parts of Spain it was also associated with protecting or healing the eyes and with remedies for headaches.

Was the Eye of St Lucia used against the evil eye?

Yes, in several western Mediterranean traditions the operculum was worn or kept as protection against the evil eye. However, its meaning was not identical everywhere: it could also be associated with healing, good luck or prosperity.

Is the Eye of St Lucia amulet found throughout the Mediterranean?

Not on the basis of the evidence currently available. Although Bolma rugosa occurs more widely, reliable evidence for its operculum being used as an amulet is especially strong in parts of Spain, France and Italy. Comparable use in Malta and North Africa has not yet been established in the sources discussed here.

References

[1] S. Albizurri et. al. 2024, Opérculos de Bolma rugosa en la necrópolis del Neolítico Medio de Bòbila Madurell (Barcelona, España), in: Trabajos de Prehistoria 81 (2) https://doi.org/10.3989/tp.2024.996

[2] González, J. A., & Vallejo, J. R. (2023). The Use of Shells of Marine Molluscs in Spanish Ethnomedicine: A Historical Approach and Present and Future Perspectives. Pharmaceuticals (Basel, Switzerland), 16(10), 1503. https://doi.org/10.3390/ph16101503

[3] Pereira, R.Q. 2022. El mal de ojo en Galicia. Creencias, Ritos y Lugares de sanación, in: LIBURNA 19, pp 163 – 218, p. 193. The use against headaches is found for wider Spain as well.

[4] https://dcvb.iec.cat/results.asp?word=pedra

[5] See https://doris.ffessm.fr/Especes/Bolma-rugosa-Astree-rugueuse-67/%28rOffset%29/9 or https://www.marseille-tourisme.com/decouvrez-marseille/traditions/marche-aux-poissons-marseille/

[6] See https://www.asciacatascia.it/spigolature/lluocchio-e-santa-lucia-astrea-rugosa

[7] P. Gometz & M. Sardo. Prendas. Gioielli di Sardegna. Edizioni della Torre, 1998.

The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

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The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

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How to hype a ring: the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring and the evidence

How to hype a ring: the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring and the evidence

by | Ancient jewellery, European jewellery

an elizabethan ring and the evidence

How to hype a ring: the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring

Published Sept 4, 2026

Sometimes, I come across a piece of jewellery that puzzles me. The other day, I spotted a gold ring offered by Berganza London as the ‘Historic Ring of Edward de Vere’. Set with a carnelian intaglio depicting a male bust in the likeness of a Roman emperor, it is a beautiful and rare piece of Elizabethan jewellery.

But how do we know this is really the ring of Edward de Vere?

I started reading the description, then went looking for the archaeological find record. And somewhere between what we know about the ring and what has been suggested about its former owner, I felt the leap from evidence to interpretation had become rather large, and so I wanted to take you along to separate fact from story!

The Elizabethan gold ring and its intaglio

The ring itself is a gold ring, with a beautifully decorated shank and bezel in a foliage design. The ring is set with an engraved carnelian, showing a bust of a bearded man, wearing a coronet with large radiating points. This is an ornament borrowed from Roman times, when notably the god Sol was depicted with such a head ornament: they are stylized rays of sun. That fits with the time period the ring was made: from the 16th century onwards, people of the upper layers in society began to take an interest in Classical Antiquity. It’s a beautiful piece, and it is absolutely rare.

See the ring, a parallel, and a cast of the intaglio here

But on Berganza’s website, it is listed as ‘Historic Ring of Edward de Vere’ and the page title itself says ‘Elizabethan piece of jewellery Edward de Vere’. Edward de Vere was a confidant and favourite of Elizabeth I, which leads to the description of this piece being ‘an important piece of Elizabethan history’.

Wait, how did we arrive at this very specific attribution?

Where was the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring found?

For that, we need to retrace the find circumstances. Where did this piece of jewellery come from?

As mentioned on the website, it was found by a metal detectorist in 2018 ‘near Hedingham Castle in Essex’.

But what is ‘near’? That is a conspicuously vague term, so I looked up the Portable Antiquities Scheme Database. In the UK, metal detectorist finds need to be registered, and so there is a find record of the ring here. You’ll find it listed in the references below this blog. Side note: this record is not referenced on the Berganza site. The find spot is given as the Greenstead Green and Halstead Rural parish – so not an exact location, but the parish it was found in. That is not unusual, and I assume the exact coordinates of the find are known with PAS.

Hedingham Castle is not located in that parish, though, but in (unsurprisingly) Castle Hedingham Parish. That is roughly 2 miles from the parish boundary listed as the find spot, so ‘near’ is still an hour’s or so walk away.

The PAS record further lists that the find fulfilled the requirements of the Treasure Act, but was disclaimed as Treasure in 2020 following further research and returned to the finder.

Why has the ring been linked to Edward de Vere?

Now to the Edward de Vere part.

Hedingham Castle is the ancestral castle of Edward de Vere. And because it was found ‘near’ the castle, it was assumed to be associated with its famous inhabitant. The video on this particular ring shown on Berganza’s Instagram (see it here) even suggests ‘an intimate likeness’ between the carving on the intaglio and the few surviving portraits of De Vere.

So, a ring with an intaglio that was fashionable in court circles at that time, found a considerable distance from Hedingham Castle, shows an intimate likeness to a man of whom very few portraits survive? Dating a ring to the Elizabethan period is one thing. Attributing it to a particular Elizabethan individual requires another level of evidence, I think.

To be fair, Berganza is appropriately careful in their wording. The description uses phrases such as ‘it has been suggested’ and ‘thought to have been commissioned and owned’, so the connection with Edward de Vere is never explicitly presented as established fact. I appreciate that distinction.

At the same time, the overall presentation points quite strongly in that direction. The ring is listed as the ‘Historic Ring of Edward de Vere’ in the listing page’s title tag you see in your browser’s tab, the page title identifies it as an ‘Elizabethan piece of jewellery Edward de Vere’, and the description concludes: ‘We rarely acquire a piece so historically connected and in such remarkable, museum quality condition.’

So while the individual claims are carefully qualified, the cumulative effect is rather more confident. A possible association gradually starts to feel like a provenance, but in reality, we do not know how historically connected this ring is.

And there is more!

From Edward de Vere to Shakespeare

There is a theory that Edward de Vere is actually none other than William Shakespeare: William Shakespeare would have been the pseudonym under which he penned famous works such as Macbeth.

And here the layers of possibility start to pile up. We have a ring that might be associated with Edward de Vere, based largely on where it was found and a suggested resemblance in the intaglio. De Vere, in turn, might, according to the Oxfordian theory, have written the works attributed to William Shakespeare.

That is overdoing it, I feel, as there is no solid evidence for the first claim to begin with.

What can we actually say about this ring?

None of this makes the ring itself any less fascinating. It is a rare and beautiful piece of Elizabethan jewellery, found in Essex and recorded through the Portable Antiquities Scheme. But there is a difference between what we know and what we would like to know. A find spot in the wider vicinity of Hedingham Castle does not by itself connect the ring to Edward de Vere, and a perceived resemblance in an intaglio is not the same as an identified portrait. Taking the next step, from Edward de Vere to Shakespeare, moves us further still from the evidence.

And that is exactly what interests me here: not whether someone has technically claimed that Edward de Vere owned this ring, because they have not, but how easy it is to arrive at a compelling association that the available evidence cannot actually confirm.

And that is why provenance matters so much. Objects acquire stories remarkably easily, especially when a famous name can be found to hitch the tale onto. And if it is repeated often enough, a possibility quickly turns into an attribution, and an attribution then becomes apparent fact. Key takeaway from this piece of jewellery: read a description carefully and separate established fact from (admittedly!) intriguing possibility.

Personally, I think this ring is interesting enough without the hype!

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References

PAS record: Flynn, S. (2018) ESS-A69E73: Post Medieval finger-ring. Web page available at https://finds.org.uk/pas/recorded-find/ESS-A69E73 under a CC-BY licence [Accessed: 04 Sep 2026 09:52:38]

Berganza listing: https://www.berganza.com/knowledge/extraordinary-jewellery/pieces-of-interest/important-piece-of-elizabethan-history [Accessed September 4th, 2026]

The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry: what does it actually show?

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry: what does it actually show?

by | Ancient jewellery, European jewellery

what does it actually show?

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry

Published Sept 3, 2026

You probably heard one way or another, but in 2026, the Bayeux Tapestry is on loan to England from France. It’s on display in the British Museum while in its home of Bayeux, France, a new museum is being built. This historic loan prompted me to have a look at the tapestry again – in search of jewellery, of course! Especially since there is not all that much adornment featured.

What is the Bayeux Tapestry?

The Bayeux Tapestry is one of the most famous surviving works from medieval Europe. Created in the late 11th century, it shows the events leading up to the Norman conquest of England in 1066, ending with the Battle of Hastings.

It is not actually a tapestry, though: the scenes are embroidered in coloured wool onto a linen fabric of nearly 69 meters in length and approximately 70 centimetres in height. This horizontal banner, which is more what it was, was made to measure for the nave of Bayeux Cathedral. So, when you walked in, you’d see the entire story unfold, and then you could walk past it to see the details. Those include details that can only be seen from a close distance, such as texture in clothing, details of horse gear, the detailing around the rim of a drinking horn, and much more.

Close viewing was the idea, and that brings me to the question of the jewellery: what jewellery was featured on the Bayeux Tapestry?

What jewellery is shown on the Bayeux Tapestry?

There is surprisingly little jewellery featured on the Bayeux Tapestry; in fact, there is only one type of jewel that features with any prominence and that is the disc brooch. This is seen worn by men to close their mantle: sometimes on the shoulder, and sometimes on the upper chest. The image above of Harold Godwinson shows a disc brooch worn on the shoulder.

In some instances, the brooch closing a mantle seems to be more square than disc-shaped, such as in the image of King Edward the Confessor shown above.

I included an example of how we may imagine such a brooch to look like above. Popular in the 11th century were enameled brooches and brooches with filigree and precious stones.

Bayeux Tapestry jewellery and the archaeological record

There was of course more jewellery in existence during the 11th century than shown on the Bayeux Tapestry. Finger rings, for example, were among the pieces of jewellery most often worn. When Edward’s tomb was opened in 1102, Osbert of Clare described the king as wearing a crown and finger ring [1]. But such a ring was never depicted on the artwork in Bayeux, while he is shown wearing a crown.

Likewise, other embellishments such as decorated straps, ornate belts, pins etc are missing from the Bayeux Tapestry as well, while we know these existed.

Why is there so little jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry?

The Bayeux Tapestry shows much less jewellery than we know existed. Why is that?

Firstly, the artwork shows a series of mainly military events. Here, identity and status are portrayed through more martial elements such as helmets, shields, swords, and horse gear. The disc brooches fit in with that aesthetic: they close the cloaks and mantles of high-ranking persons. In fact, brooches were an important part of personal identity, a notion that only grew stronger after the Norman conquests. [2]

Secondly, status is not just expressed through jewellery, but significantly also in textiles. Their colours, trimmings and textures would have sent messages to viewers on the status of the persons depicted. Edward’s garment for example, as depicted in the first scene of the artwork, has distinctive ornamental trimming, alongside richly represented cushions and hangings.

The Bayeux Tapestry is not a photographic record of reality, but includes jewellery when this serves the narrative. We see it feature mainly where authority is visualized, such as in the representation of Edward, Harold and William.

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry: what it tells us about its time

So, if you do have the opportunity to see the Bayeux Tapestry and hope to find complete picture of 11th-century jewellery, you will come away disappointed. But that absence is interesting in itself. Jewellery appears selectively, particularly where it helps communicate status and authority, while other forms of adornment that we know from archaeological and written sources are left out.

That makes the Bayeux Tapestry useful in a different way. Rather than showing us everything people actually wore, it shows us which details made sense to the makers, and, even more, to the viewers of this extraordinary embroidered narrative. And sometimes, what an artwork leaves out can be just as revealing as what it includes!

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References

See this blog https://trc-leiden.nl/trc-needles/texts-films-customs-and-event/non-fictional-works/king-edward-the-confessor-s-embroidered-mantle

And for a complete overview of the tapestry: https://www.britishmuseum.org/blog/everything-you-need-know-about-bayeux-tapestry

[1] Gale R. Owen-Crocker and Maren Clegg Hyer, eds., Refashioning Medieval and Early Modern Dress: A Tribute to Robin Netherton. (Medieval and Renaissance Clothing and Textiles.) Woodbridge, UK: Boydell, 2019

[2] Weetch, R. Tradition and innovation: Lead-alloy brooches and urban identities in the 11th century. In D. M. Hadley & C. Dyer (Eds.), The Archaeology of the 11th Century: Continuities and Transformations (pp. 263–282). Routledge, 2017

The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!

When the past is reimagined: how ancient jewellery got a makeover

When the past is reimagined: how ancient jewellery got a makeover

by | Opinion

when the past is reimagined

How ancient jewellery got a makeover

Published January 28, 2026

Jewellery has always had a powerful role in connecting us to the past. But what if the jewellery we see in museum displays isn’t quite as ancient as we’re led to believe? Or what if jewellery made just a century ago is mistaken for something millennia older? It happens more often than you’d think.

In this blog, I’ll introduce my new research project Jewellery Between Worlds, that I conduct as Visiting Research Fellow of the Netherlands Institute for the Near East at Leiden University.

In this project, I take a closer look at how the boundaries between archaeology and ethnography blurred in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and how that blurry line continues to shape our understanding of ancient Southwest Asia. I’ll explore how ancient jewellery has been altered, how more recent jewellery has been mislabelled, and how museum displays influence what we think the past looked like.

Jewellery that time-travelled…the wrong way

Let’s start with the ancient pieces themselves. Many items labelled as ancient in museum collections were never actually excavated in controlled digs. Instead, they made their way into collections through the antiquities trade (sometimes legally, more often not) and without any archaeological context.

And that’s where the fun (or frustration, depending on how you look at it) begins.

People of the 19th and early 20th centuries often had strong ideas about what jewellery should look like. So ancient beads and pendants were frequently restrung into contemporary fashion statements. A 1920s-style flapper necklace made from Egyptian antiquities—reassembled to suit Jazz Age tastes. Or take the beaded necklaces from the tomb of Djehuty, now in Leiden: they were likely restrung shortly after excavation, without any real record of their original arrangement. You can see one of the necklaces in the image gallery below. One of the things I examine is if this was done by sellers, or by curators – or both.

Even on professional excavations themselves, jewellery wasn’t always recorded with care. Beads, in particular, were fragile and tricky to recover, because their stringing had long since disintegrated.

As a result, we’re often looking at reconstructions, at 19th or 20th century designs using ancient components – yet presented as ‘authentic’ ancient necklaces. Have a look at the two necklaces below: they are eerily similar in their design.

When 2oth century jewellery masquerades as ancient

The confusion runs both ways. Museum collections also hold pieces that are actually ethnographic (so, made in the 19th or early 20th century and used by local communities) but labelled as ancient.

That is because jewellery, for a very long time, has not been studied as historical source in its own right, but at best as accessory. What also isn’t helping, is that very often, museum curators were men.

The thing is that this misidentification doesn’t just muddle museum catalogues. It reshapes how we imagine the past, often with an unconscious bias: assuming that non-Western cultures don’t change much over time, and that what peasants wore in the 1900s must look more or less like what pharaohs wore thousands of years earlier. It’s an old trope, and one that has been remarkably persistent.

Dressing the ancient past in the present

Even today, our mental image of ancient Southwest Asia is still shaped by these missteps. People in movies, TV-shows or sometimes simply images set in the past, are only too often adorned with ethnographic pieces from very different periods and regions.

What interests me here are the different approaches to material relics of the past. The accuracy of a building can be checked against archaeological sources. The same goes for jewellery: there is a ton of evidence of what people wore in the past. But somehow, that rarely translates into reconstructions of that past.

And so 19th century ideas about both the past and contemporary cultures continue to persist in visualisations of the past – and that’s a dynamic I want to explore further in this project.

Jewellery Between Worlds – my new research project

Jewellery isn’t just beautiful—it’s a historical source. It tells stories of who wore it, when, and why.

But it also tells stories about us: the collectors, curators, and viewers who handle and interpret these pieces. When an ancient necklace is restrung into a flapper fashion statement, or when 19th-century jewellery is rebranded as ancient, we learn as much about modern tastes and assumptions as we do about the ancient world.

This entanglement of old and new, fact and fashion, archaeology and ethnography, is part of the story of both archaeology and ethnography about a century ago. I think it’s high time we start to disentangle those views: if we don’t, it becomes a flaw in the system.

In 2026, I’ll be diving into storerooms and archives, to see if I can shed more light on how the the past and present came to be mixed up, and what we can do to educate both ourselves and the general public.

And finally: this is a self-funded position, meaning one I’m not getting paid for.  I think it’s important anyway, so I’m embarking on it regardless. If you feel like supporting me in this journey in other ways than by enrolling in a course, you can do so through this link – thank you!

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Find out more about the meaning of personal adornment in the e-courses!

More posts on jewellery and adornment? Browse them all here!

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The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!

Behind the scenes of independent research

Behind the scenes of independent research

by | General jewellery topics

What it takes to be a jewellery historian

Behind the scenes of independent research

Published January 2, 2026

I thought I’d share a bit of real talk about life as an independent researcher – the part that is not often addressed because it is, in all honesty, not that glamourous. However, over the course of several talks with fellow self-employed specialists with similar experiences, I found that this is also the part that actually might need spelling out.

And so this once, I’m going to do just that.

I’m not employed by a university or museum: I work independently, which means I fund all of my research myself. That’s the unglamourous part right there. So how does that actually work? Let me take you behind the scenes into the nitty-gritty of the work!

Why I’m an independent researcher

I’m an independent researcher because this field is my passion, there aren’t all that many curatorial or lecturer positions at museums or universities available, and I believe I a have a useful contribution to make. That’s the simple truth of it. I chose this, and I love it.

Because I work independently, I don’t have an employer, which has lots of benefits, but also means I don’t receive a salary. I’m self-funded – in the most literal sense of the word. All research, travel, writing, and website maintenance is paid for out of my own pocket. 

Being an independent researcher in my case means running a business, with all the administration, responsibilities, and costs that come with it.

I’m breaking that down for you here, so you’ll get a feeling of how my work (and that of other self-employed specialists) operates.

The hidden costs of jewellery research

What does being an independent researcher mean financially? Here is what I spend resources on.

Let’s start with the very blog you’re reading. Keeping this website and the online course platform running costs, all-in, a substantial amount per year. Simply being visible online and having your infrastructure in place comes with its own baseline costs.

Then there’s travel: visiting exhibitions, or attending conferences all require resources. That’s not just the conference fee or exhibition entrance fees, but also hotels and transportation. I love conferences: it’s always great to meet new people, see old friends, and exchange ideas and knowledge!

Another ongoing investment is my own reference library. Over the years, I’ve built a significant collection of jewellery books and articles – and that continues to grow. With so much AI-generated content swirling around online these days, I find it important to turn to actual books: they offer depth and context that you will not find as easily online.

Side note: contrary to what some might assume (and a few people even have told me outright), reviewing books for this blog isn’t a budget-friendly way to expand that library! In fact, it ties directly into the biggest investment I make in my work: time.

Why time is my most valuable asset

Time is the one resource I need for everything I do. Researching, writing, creating courses or social media content: all of that takes hours, days, even weeks. 

Researching and writing a blog article, including creating the images to go with it, can take up to 3-4 hours. That’s because I include references and want to make sure you get solid information on jewellery. Compiling my monthly Newsletter (subscribe here if you haven’t already!) takes up half a day. The absolutely lovely feedback I receive after each and every emailing tells me that that is time well spent!

However, it’s time I can’t spend elsewhere earning an income.

That is, by the way, why I’m always surprised when asked to give a talk or consultation for free. I truly love sharing knowledge, as you know, and I do my best to keep much of it accessible – but just like everyone else, I have my housing to pay, groceries to buy, and the heating bill to cover. If I could pay my mortgage by delivering a talk at my local bank office…well, let me just say there’d be a lot of jewellery-savy bankers out there by now!

The same goes for book reviews. Receiving a review copy is always a joy: opening the package, flipping through fresh pages, and diving into a new publication is truly exciting. I adore books! But make no mistake: it’s also work. Reading a book with a reviewer’s eye, placing it within the wider field of jewellery studies, and writing a thoughtful, contextual review can take several days.

Long story short: what you see on the blog is the final stage of quite a bit of unseen work behind the scenes. The same holds true for, for example, performers: you don’t see the amount of time spent practicing, studying, inspecting and mending outfits behind their flawless performance.

Sigrid van Roode presents a talk about jewellery from Lebanon in the National Museum of Antiquities, Leiden

The hidden costs of talks

That unseen work behind the scenes is also applicable to talks and lectures. Let’s pick that apart, too, because the amount of work for a talk behind the scenes is not always immediately apparent.

A talk does not begin and end with the hour spent speaking. For in-person talks for example, the travel time to and from the venue may be substantial and take me a full day, even in a tiny country like mine.

Preparing a lecture, especially when it is built from scratch, takes multiple days of research, writing, and assembling a carefully structured slide deck. I don’t just slap some pictures on a slide and be done with it: I want the audience to really enjoy the talk.

So, when you book me (or any independent researcher) for a talk, the fee may seem high for a single hour at a podium, but is below minimum wage for the full working week behind the scenes needed to prepare. That’s the reality of working in the humanities – if I were in tech or sports, I suppose no one would blink twice if I charged the actual time involved.

I think it’s necessary to be honest about the amount of work that goes into preparing a talk, not only to you, but also to ourselves as humanities scholars: if you’re reading this as a speaker and it resonates with you, it’s time to acknowledge that presenting a talk is not something you just wiggle in the rest of your workload.

No grants, no salary: how do I fund my work?

I cover part of these costs through my online courses, which make an important contribution to keeping this work going. If you have taken one of them: thank you so much, honestly!

In addition, I work on commissioned research, such as inventorying and correctly describing museum collections, or writing a dedicated article or book.

Bookings for talks and courses are also a valuable source of support, but, as I explained above, the fees do not cover the actual amount of time involved.

Besides, and that’s another thing you might not think of in the first place, there’s this little thing called taxes. That fee I charge for a talk or a consultation? Nearly half of that goes to income taxes. Unglamourous, I know.

Why I’m sharing this, and how you can help

Why am I sharing this with you?

Not to complain – far from it. I chose this path, I’m proud of what I’ve built, and I love what I do.

Being an independent researcher doesn’t mean swanning around amidst sparkling jewellery.

It means working hard to respectfully study, share, and preserve cultural heritage through careful research and teaching. There is a lot of Orientalist mythmaking out there, and a surge in AI-generated content not necessarily based in facts, so I will continue to do my best to serve you human-researched, factually sound information on jewellery history.

If you’ve found joy, inspiration or insight in my blog articles, Newsletter, or social media content, and would like to support me in other ways than by enrolling in a course, you can do so directly through this link.

Every contribution – big or small – helps to keep the research going and the blog running.

That’s the unglamourous part of being an independent researcher: I hope this peek behind the scenes has given you some insight in the realities of what a jewellery historian does, besides looking at jewellery!

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Find out more about the meaning of personal adornment in the e-courses!

More posts on jewellery and adornment? Browse them all here!

Join the Jewellery List and receive new articles, jewellery news and more in your inbox!

—

Discover more on jewellery today!
The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!