Vivienne Westwood never dealt in “pretty” jewellery. From the original King’s Road shows to today’s digital look-books, Vivienne’s rings for women are billboards, protest placards and love-letters shrunk to fingertip scale. They are gestures cast in metal: a wink, a salute, sometimes a well-aimed raspberry and they invite their wearer to speak with their hands long before they open their mouth.
Icons in orbit
At the centre of the range sits the orb: part planet, part sovereign’s crown, entirely mischievous. On signet styles the emblem rises like hot wax, ready to stamp authority on a handshake. Pavé editions drench the silhouette in crystals, catching nightclub strobes and breakfast-meeting sunlight with equal poise. Minimalists lean towards slender bands where the orb hovers off-centre, discreet enough for the boardroom yet stubbornly non-conformist.
Pearls, crystals and fabulous alloys
Pearls, viewed by Westwood as timeless rather than prim, thread through the collection in surprising guises. A single creamy sphere might balance on a polished claw next to rough-hewn brass; clusters of smaller pearls sometimes flank a gun-metal band, setting up a dialogue between ballroom refinement and street-market grit. Crystals do not merely sparkle, they literally flare. Occasionally colour creeps in: lavender pearls and jet crystals jostle together in a palette lifted straight from Camden night markets. Plain metals join the party as experimental alloys, some bright as a new coin, others intentionally blackened, proving that preciousness is a question of attitude, not of karats.
A ring wardrobe for every mood
Variety is the unspoken brief. One moment the collection leans into maximalism with knuckleduster-wide profiles and outsized cabochons; the next it offers wafer-thin stacking rings engineered to slot together like verses in a punk anthem. Textural contrast is everywhere: smooth enamel beside serrated bezels, satin surfaces next to deliberately battered edges. The design studio delights in the visual pun, too: a band inflated like balloon lettering, a heart half-melted, a barbed-wire motif recast in polished vermeil that turns menace into ornament.
Styling cues: let your hands do the talking
Start by abandoning symmetry. Place a chunky statement on the index finger and let two delicate companions perch on the ring finger. Mixing metals is de rigueur – rose beside silver beside aged bronze and the clash feels intentional rather than chaotic. For evening, swap stacks for a single show-stopper that invites strangers to ask, “Where did you get that?” For the office, try a slim, pearl-tipped band with obsessively pressed cuffs; its soft glimmer is just enough to undermine the grey-flannel monotony of nine-to-five.
From studio bench to boulevard
Every Westwood ring begins as a sketch layered with references: eighteenth-century regalia, celestial navigation charts, the typography of underground fanzines. Model-makers translate drawings into wax, casters pour molten metal, then artisans hand-finish each facet until it earns the house stamp. Stones are set by eye, creating tiny flashes of mischief where machine uniformity would feel bland. The finished piece carries the fingerprints of its makers alongside the fingerprints of its wearer, ready for pavements, podiums and every spontaneous standing ovation.
Why rings, why now?
Of all accessories, rings have the greatest conversational pull. They wave, they clink glasses, they sign petitions. Slip on a Westwood ring and the conversation changes. With Vivienne’s rings you’re stepping into a slice of British fashion history, where style does more than adorn, it asks questions.
Stand before your mirror, test-drive a few combinations, and watch your posture shift when the right ring locks into place. Shoulders square, wrists loosen, and every small gesture acquires theatre. That is the quiet power forged into Vivienne Westwood’s rings: they encourage you to perform everyday life with a dash more daring, a little more humour and a grin that says you wouldn’t trade your freedom for anybody’s approval.
