THE BLOG

So Out It's In: Grass Knuckles

11/11/2008 05:12 am ET | Updated May 25, 2011

I've always been afraid of houseplants. I admire those who have the time and patience to raise little saplings, to nurture nature's gifts, but I'm not one of those people. Can't keep the darn things alive. When I recently moved into a new apartment, my best friend Jackie brought me a "money tree"--a houseplant that is intended to bring one luck with the dollar bills. Despite my watering and its careful placement next to the one window that gets sunlight, the poor thing died in three days. (Coincidence that the market crashed and the economy tanked posthumously? Could I have been super rich if I'd invested in some Miracle-Gro?).

And I don't know how many times I've asked friends to grab a drink after work or go see a movie and I get the response, "Sorry, I'd love to, but I gotta get home to my plants. They haven't been watered in a few hours, and they get thirsty. Plus, we like watching E! News together." They're so braggy about their successful plant-relationships. It gets under my skin and I start sweating like a lemonade pitcher in August, but I just keep my mouth shut, roll my eyes and walk home alone to my dead money-tree where we pour ourselves four fingers of Jamison, eat Soy yogurt and Eggo waffles and surf the internet for things to declare so out, they're in.

And wouldn't you know, we just discovered this:

Bam! Now that's some Bling. Well, actually, it's the opposite of Bling since it's not shiny at all, so I guess it'd be called Dim... or Lackluster. Now that's some Lackluster! So out it's in: Grass Knuckles.

This new jewelry line pleases me on so many levels that it's hard to know where to begin, but I'll start with the designer.

What I love is that it forces the wearer to be mindful -- the jewelry needs to be watered, nurtured and stored in its jewelry box, a.k.a. mini-greenhouse, overnight. It puts the beauty of the jewelry in the hands of the owner -- there's a responsibility to keep it looking fresh and healthy, and therefore handsome. Kind of like a boyfriend.

I'm not sure how to get my hands on one of these rings -- can't find any purchasing information on the web. I'd fly to Iceland, but I don't think my boss or my Visa bill would appreciate that. Maybe Growing Jewelry is only for environmental super-heroes along the lines of Captain Planet (Earth! Fire! Wind! Water! Heart!) and only given away at secret super-hero meetings held in a lair that looks like a mountain in West Virginia. But I digress.

Growing Jewelry solves so many of my problems and would possibly improve my social life. No more houseplant excuse because the plant is now on your finger. My friend would have to hang out with me! Unless she got a dog, at which point I would have to wave the white flag because I do not want to see any bonsai dogs caged on peoples' fingers.

Having grass knuckles would cure my fear of houseplants because it wouldn't be in my house, it'd be on me, and whenever I typed, or reached in a bag of peanut M&Ms, or high-fived the M4 bus driver, I'd be reminded that my little Icelandic moss needs some love. And that reminder would be enough to keep it alive, which is where I've struggled in the past.

As the avalanche that is the economy continues to tumble, I think Bling is so out and Lackluster is so in. I'm going to try and get my hands on some Growing Jewelry before the price of moss goes up, which now that I think about it, might also affect the cost of Jamison. Stay stable, moss! I'm coming for you.