Creating My Lady Gaga Spaceship Wedding Ring
A custom jewelry story
Once upon a time, a woman named Samantha met her Prince Charming when she was thirty-four years old. He was from New Zealand, and she was from California, and they were a match made in Venice Beach. They met on a magical dating app called Tinder and went out for burgers. One day, Samantha discreetly told her Prince that she wanted to design her wedding ring, and she only wanted one ring to wear on her left hand, as her mother had. Countless burgers later, they were engaged. From the edge of the Grand Canyon, after an exhilarating helicopter ride, she said, “Yes!” and the search for her one of a kind ring began when the search for her one of a kind Prince concluded.
I wasn’t a girl who grew up dreaming about her wedding day until I had my heart broken around thirty.
I started to take dating more seriously and began fantasizing about two things: the man I would marry and the ring I would wear symbolizing our love. My mom wore a single wedding ring; she was nontraditional. Whenever I saw matching band and ring sets on other women, it looked high maintenance. As much as I loved fashion and jewelry, I wanted something I wore every day to be sparkly and unique but functional.
Initially, I thought I’d find a vintage ring. I liked the idea of something sustainable with a past. I scoured vintage rings at jewelry stores around Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area (where I’m from), and online. I was drawn to art deco and sapphires, my husband’s birthstone. I ideally wanted rose gold, which wasn’t as easy to find in vintage rings as I’d thought. After months, I was getting tired of searching, and our October wedding was approaching.
Sofia Kaman’s current store in Santa Monica
I popped into Sofia Kaman’s jewelry store on Abbot Kinney to look at her vintage selection. I saw lots of things I wanted, naturally, but I didn’t find the One. I loved her style: feminine, vintage-inspired, sustainably crafted. She suggested custom designing something, and ideas spilled out of me. I told her our budget, and she explained the process and timing. It all felt natural and exciting, meant to be, like my relationship with my Prince.
I should mention that my Prince proposed with a “promise ring” because he wanted to present something. He picked out an inexpensive silver ring with flowers etched on the band and a round moonstone in a crown setting. It’s a ring Arwen from Lord of the Rings would have worn. LOTR was filmed in New Zealand, and my Prince had never met an American girl who had watched a day-long LOTR marathon and requested to visit Hobbiton when going to New Zealand for the first time.
My Arwen ring was what I wore as a place-holder while I was engaged. I explained that it was the engagement ring, and I was designing my wedding ring. Lots of people didn’t get that. They’d expected to see a sparkling diamond on my hand—De Beers marketing continues to charm. My Prince and I were a match, but I didn’t have a matching set. I was untraditional, like my mom. I wanted something no one else had, every part of it intentional. I didn’t care about having the typical showing off the ring engagement photo; I felt we were equals, and one of us shouldn’t get more attention. Our engagement announcement photo was of our two hands holding flutes, cheersing, with Grand Canyon splendor in the background. Just call me a “humble bride.”
In August, Sofia showed me an initial sketch of the design. We decided the main stone would be a marquis cut sapphire, and small diamonds would halo around the top and down the sides. She suggested other design elements like milgrain and a soft square shape on the bottom for comfort.
When she sent me the CAD design, my response was that it looked like “a gorgeous Lady Gaga spaceship.” She also sent a photo of the sustainably-sourced sapphire. We fine-tuned over email, and the ring was ready in late September.
It was unspoken that her ring inspired mine. My ring had a sapphire and diamonds, like hers. I grew up admiring her ring, and I’d created a version that reminded me of my newfound love and my parent’s love (fifty-two years strong). I’d unintentionally created a legacy piece.
My Prince designed his ring too. He wanted it to be intentional and have symbolism. Besides wearing my Arwen ring when I was pregnant because my fingers swelled, I never take my ring off. It still sparkles like the stars, I’ve never seen anything similar, and it’s more comfortable than ever. It’s become part of me.
Here are some of my custom picks from our featured jewelers:
Wordsmith: Samantha Durbin
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