Unlocking the Jewelry Box: A Visual History
Unlocking the Jewelry Box: A Visual History is a transcript of a presentation recorded for NYC Jewelry Week 2024 (NYCJW24). Emily Hupp, a member of the American Society of Jewelry Historians, explores the evolution of jewelry boxes as both functional objects and symbols of personal style. Emily is passionate about preserving the history and craftsmanship of fine jewelry and shares her knowledge through her TikTok, @futuresecondwife. The full video is available on YouTube.
Hello, my name is Emily Hupp, and I am so looking forward to unlocking the jewelry box with you all today. Now, there’s no denying that every piece of jewelry tells a story. But, if every piece is a book, the jewelry box is the whole library. These houses of our most treasured items have long been overlooked, but today we’ll be looking at how these intricate containers have transformed across history and investigating them as items of protection, expression, display, and mobility.
For the purposes of this lecture, I’d like to clarify that I am only including objects that, based on historical evidence, were once used to hold jewelry. As we’ll see with these boxes, there was no shortage of creativity in the past, and I have no doubt that bracelets and brooches have long graced receptacles not originally intended for that use. Additionally, just as one might rummage through a jewelry box to find that perfect piece, we’ll be exploring the history of jewelry boxes by picking out themes and stories rather than following a linear path.
But we should probably start at the beginning.
Protection
At their core, jewelry boxes are intimate spaces, holding not just valuables but the personal stories and memories tied to each piece. Beyond the financial value of the jewelry stored within, peering into someone else’s jewelry box is truly like taking a glimpse into their soul, revealing what they cherish and the moments they hold dear. With this inherent value must come measures to protect these precious spaces, so it makes sense that some of the first jewelry boxes prioritized physical protection through various methods.
2,000 years before the Common Era, humans are discovering the power of bronze. Tools and weapons revolutionize agriculture and warfare, enabling early civilizations to expand their influence and consolidate power. In ancient Egypt, the Upper and Lower Kingdoms have been reunited. Art, culture, and cultural exchange are flourishing, and Mentuhotep II is being prepared for the afterlife. In his tomb will be placed one of the earliest known examples of a jewelry box.
Here we see a wooden box with sliding lids atop two compartments. Now, this design reflects an early understanding of protection, a concept that would evolve as Egypt itself continued to grow in wealth and complexity. While basic in form, the box shields valuable items from dust and the elements, which in the dry desert climate could mean the difference between preservation and decay.
This box also reflects early stages of compartmentalization. The dual compartments suggest an understanding of organization—the idea that valuables could be separated by type or importance—which differs from the single-compartmented pixus boxes of earlier centuries. And we’ll see this form, with its rectangular shape and the method for opening at the shortest side of the box, hearkened back to in other Egyptian designs.
This ancient Egyptian box, dating back to between 1504 and 1447 BC, is made of faience and wood, showcasing the artistic, symbolic, and protective importance of materials in ancient Egypt. Now, faience was not merely a practical material but held deep spiritual significance. Its shimmering turquoise blue glaze was believed to capture the essence of eternal life, fertility, and the sun’s divine power while also serving a protective function. Much like the belief in the magical properties of faience, jewelry in ancient Egypt was thought to offer spiritual protection and was worn by all classes, from poor farmers to wealthy royals. Consequently, jewelry boxes were more widespread across social classes during this period, more so than in other periods that we’ll be examining today.
Now, the faience seen here is crafted from common materials like quartz, alkaline salts, and mineral-based coloring, which allowed Egyptians to simulate rare stones such as turquoise. The glimmering blue surface of the faience was associated with rebirth and regeneration, making it a prized material in the creation of both decorative and ritual objects while also being accessible to the artisans of ancient Egypt. Other cultures would similarly use resources available to them to create beautiful and functional boxes.
For example, this intricate tortoise shell jewelry box, made by Ildefonso de Zúñiga in 1736, combines tortoise shell and silver, materials that were plentiful in Spanish America. Likewise, Sri Lankan artisans in the 17th century crafted luxurious ivory-carved boxes, such as this one. And make sure not to miss that gold-mounted garnet set in the box’s finial. Ivory would also be used in the creation of this Egyptian jewelry box from between the 4th and 5th centuries of the Common Era. You’ll notice its shape has not changed much from the Egyptian box 1,700 years prior but is brought into its time period with the concentric circle decoration typical of the Byzantine era.
Now, while Egyptian jewelry boxes stand as remarkable examples of craftsmanship and symbolic protection, cultures across the world also developed their own distinctive protective containers for jewelry. These boxes, though differing in shapes and designs, shared a common purpose of safeguarding valuable adornments.
Expression
Now, this Venetian box, set from 1575, also promises that security. Despite standing at only 9 inches high, it has detail work that would rival a cathedral while being a millionth of the size. Adorned with intricate beechwood veneers and inset with mother-of-pearl plaques, it is painted and embellished with gilt, standing as a masterpiece in its own right. The top handle, delicately sculpted with two intertwined foliate elements, suggests that the box was designed not just for aesthetic appeal but also for ease of handling.
The sides of the box are equally elaborate, featuring small columns and decorative panels that enhance its architectural character. Each panel is framed with finely detailed gilded work, and the central sections display floral motifs. The box’s distinctive style of decorative moresque, or tight scrolls executed in gold combined with mother-of-pearl plaques, was very in vogue for Venice at the time. Inside, it is lined with red velvet and features a glass mirror.
Now, a mirror might seem like a given for us modern consumers, but having a mirror in a jewelry box transforms the container into an active participant in the dressing ritual. The mirror invites a moment of reflection, both literally and figuratively, allowing the wearer to immediately visualize how a piece of jewelry does or does not complement their look. Luckily, Venice’s mirror industry, centered on the island of Murano, became renowned for producing the highest-quality mirrors in 1500s Europe.
But what I am most interested in is perhaps the least ornate portion of this box: the keyhole. Here we see a warded lock, characterized by its series of obstructions or wards within the lock, which would only allow for a specific key to rotate and open the mechanism. The required key to open this lock would have a cavity in the center of its tip. This cavity would fit over the cylindrical post inside the lock, providing a pivot point from which the key could rotate. Now, the warded lock is one of the oldest lock designs, with its origins found in both ancient China and Rome.
By the Middle Ages, these locks became prolific in monasteries, where both time and resources allowed their designs to become increasingly intricate. However, despite this complexity, the warded lock’s inherent vulnerability lies in its ability to be bypassed by a well-made skeleton key. Furthermore, the limited number of unique key configurations meant that many keys could open doors for which they were not specifically intended. This made the warded lock suitable for lower-security applications.
One significant enhancement that would grace many boxes in the future came in the form of uniquely shaped drill pins, which added layers of complexity and security. These pins were often crafted in distinctive shapes—hearts, triangles, stars, spades, and clover leaves—and each presented its own challenge to lock pickers. The cloverleaf-shaped drill pin, particularly notable in the 1787 and 1791 nécessaire de voyage commissioned by Marie Antoinette, is believed to represent the Christian Holy Trinity. This symbolic addition blended aesthetic elegance with practical security.
But her passion for artistry is perhaps best exemplified by the magnificent diamond cabinet she commissioned in 1787. Crafted by cabinetmaker Schwerdfeger, this monumental mahogany piece reflects her refined taste. It’s adorned with gilded bronze caryatids and a rich blend of mother-of-pearl, grisaille paintings, and allegorical figures celebrating the queen’s love for the arts. It stands at over 8 feet in height.
Though the warded lock in our 9-inch box may not be the strongest security mechanism, it still provides a sufficient barrier, offering protection through both its design and function. While this one serves more as a deterrent, it is an aesthetically pleasing one at that.
Now, this exquisite jewel cabinet, crafted between 1765 and 1790, is a masterful work bearing the signature of James Cox, a renowned London jeweler and entrepreneur of the time. Despite employing hundreds of watchmakers, there is no evidence that James Cox ever created a single watch movement. This cabinet’s design showcases the height of 18th-century craftsmanship, with its doors adorned with enameled personifications of winter and summer inspired by the “Four Seasons” paintings by British painter Robert Pyle. Atop a white enameled dial, a watch ticks, flanked by cherubs in gilded copper.
But does this artistry have a hidden agenda? Is it meant to draw our eye away from the box’s true purpose? If you’re able to take your eyes away from the exquisite detail and turn the box around, you may notice a jeweled button. Press that button, and you’ll release a hidden drawer that rests over the six more obvious ones. This hidden compartment serves as a reminder that while jewelry boxes may dazzle us with their external beauty and craftsmanship, often their true purpose lies in the secure and discreet protection of what matters most, safeguarding treasures not just from time but also from prying eyes.
We also encounter boxes designed with features to not only keep others out but to safeguard the jewelry within. For instance, the silk-lined compartments of this Parisian jewelry casket from the late 16th century provide a protective environment for precious items, preventing them from damage. The casket, fashioned in gold-tooled leather and adorned with gilded metal mounts, showcases the technical artistry of the time. Its structure features six compartments and three drawers that emerge gracefully from the side. Each compartment is lined with luxuriously dyed silk satin, reflecting the rich color palette and refined techniques of Parisian silk dyers.
During the 16th century, Paris emerged as a significant center for the silk-dying industry, driven by its status as a hub of fashion and luxury. The return of the French court under King Francis I from the Loire Valley shifted the epicenter of political and cultural power back to the capital, resulting in a surge in demand for opulent textiles and fine craftsmanship. Nobles sought to emulate the elegance of the royal household, spurring the development of specialized workshops skilled in producing vibrant, richly dyed silks.
Now, type-specific compartments—which we may think of as ring separators, bracelet bars, or slotted panels for storing stud earrings—emerged in the late 19th and early 20th centuries as jewelers and manufacturers sought to create more specialized storage solutions for delicate pieces. These compartments reflected a growing demand for both functionality and elegance, ensuring that jewelry could be secure and easily organized.
Expression
Now, ask any young woman who’s seen her boyfriend pull out a Tiffany blue box, and she’ll tell you that the right jewelry box can be quite the powerful expression. Surpassing their functional uses, jewelry boxes have long been making professions and confessions from our countertops.
A compelling example of a box with this need to express is the Italian betrothal box. This one, from 1450, serves not only as a container for precious gifts but also as a powerful symbol of love, status, and financial security. A future groom would send this box containing jewelry—like this silver double portrait pendant or a golden belt—to his bride-to-be in hopes of winning her favor. These boxes often featured love inscriptions and well-dressed couples. Leopards, as seen here symbolizing nobility and luxury, were also common motifs. Given that marriages often entailed significant financial considerations, the betrothal box also functioned as a symbolic assurance of future wealth and prosperity, which would be particularly useful for a bride who might be feeling ambivalent about her impending nuptials.
Now, despite this box being constructed through simple means—a nail holding in place a piece of bent wood, with wooden discs serving as the bottom and top lid—the decoration would have been much more reassuring to our bride. The gilding and painted details reflected the artistic traditions of the time, transforming the box into an expression of the groom’s character and aspirations, blending practicality with personal and cultural significance.
While the betrothal box was designed to express personal affection and financial assurance within a close circle of family and intimate relationships, other types of boxes were crafted to make broader, more public statements about a person’s values and beliefs. In the heart of the Renaissance, amidst a world of opulence and stringent social hierarchies, objects like this casket became profound vessels of personal expression.
It was crafted in the late 16th to early 17th century, likely in the workshop of Wenzel Jamnitzer. Jamnitzer was the best-known German goldsmith of his era and a court goldsmith to a succession of Holy Roman Emperors. Unfortunately, many of his works were melted down during the Thirty Years’ War, but this one survives and tells a story far beyond its silver and gold.
Each side of the casket is adorned with rounded arches and pillars framing silver reliefs of The Passion of the Christ. The figures of the Virgin, Christ, and the 12 Apostles serve as eternal witnesses to the owner’s piety, while the lid depicts the resurrection. Inside, the casket is as richly adorned as the exterior, with elaborate strap work and moresque designs. This intricate ornamentation showcases the owner’s appreciation for art and the international influences of the time, particularly the Islamic arabesque patterns that captivated Renaissance Europe.
The vibrant interior mirrors the gems that would have been stored within, while the small drawers at the bottom of the casket were designed to safeguard individual pieces of jewelry. These compartments provided a secure and organized way to store precious items, ensuring they were protected and easily accessible. Each drawer, a small fortress for treasures, reinforced the casket’s role as a guardian of personal wealth and legacy.
During the Renaissance, jewels and precious objects like this casket were not just possessions; they were statements. They indicated the owner’s place in society, their wealth, and their cultural refinement. This casket is more than a box—it is a narrative of faith, artistry, and social identity. It stands as a testament to the complex interplay of personal expression, spirituality, and the ever-present desire to leave a mark on the world.
Some items that may have been seen in a box like this might include this pendant with Charity and Her Children, which, like the casket, also once belonged to Baron Carl von Rothschild, the Frankfurt-born banker. This gold and enameled necklace with rubies or this gimmel ring—I find this gimmel ring absolutely enchanting. It interlocks and features a phrase that loosely translates to, “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” A similar inscription was found on the wedding band of Martin Luther to his wife, an ex-nun whom he helped escape from her nunnery in an empty fish barrel.
Now, when talking about expression, it would be remiss not to turn to the owners of jewelry boxes with a lot to express: teenage girls. We begin with an example from the past—this casket or cabinet made by Elizabeth Nichols, an English girl, in 1686. This box would have been the pinnacle of her needlework education. Also depicting a biblical story, this wooden box with silk embroidery shows Esther, the young Jewish heroine who defended her people from a Persian assault.
We can see a variety of stitches—satin, laid, and couch stitches—flanked by silver and gold trim. This box may have housed small items like a posy ring. Small, not overly ornate pieces would have been used by a middle-class English girl like Elizabeth. I want to look at this piece in conjunction with the timeless ballerina jewelry box. This icon has made its way into the bedrooms of little girls for decades, but how did this box come to be?
The story starts with Antoine Favre, a Swiss watchmaker. In 1796, Favre incorporated a miniature version of a carillon into a watch. By utilizing a pinned cylinder and a comb with tuned teeth, he was able to produce musical notes. This would later be recognized as the first comb music box. Favre’s innovation laid the groundwork for further development and the widespread popularity of music boxes in the 19th century.
Several have claimed the creation of the ballerina jewelry box, but one who did so and built quite the jewelry box empire was A. O. Mele. A hundred years after Favre’s invention, in 1896, Mele immigrated at 12 years old to the U.S. By studying the craft of jewelry display cases, he eventually opened his own shop in 1912. The business continued to grow throughout the first half of the 20th century, and in the 1950s, they launched their line of musical jewelry boxes. The success of these boxes inspired the launch of their children’s musical jewelry box line, and the Mele ballerina was born.
While there have been several changes to the exterior to reflect the ever-changing aesthetics of the decades, the jewelry box has stayed largely the same. We start with one from the 1950s. You’ll notice the automatic shelf, which is bound to both the bottom and the lid of the box so that when the box is open, the shelf rises with it. This, I think, adds to the magic of opening a jewelry box and seeing these treasures appear before your eyes. You’ll see that also in this one from the 1960s. As well as this one, where we do have a rare deviation. Here she appears much more as almost a Can Can dancer but again really largely the same.
We move into the 1970s where we really first seeing the first sign of an aesthetic identity in this kind of Lisa Vanderpump looking exterior, as well as this one in the 1980s. We can also see here that the box has changed to plastic as well as the ballerina here has a plastic skirt. This was definitely less popular and she has since returned to her fabric element but what I find so fascinating about both of these boxes is that they both contain an image of another another young woman, whether it be the biblical Esther or the endlessly twirling ballerina, there seems to be a friendly female presence as if to help usher in that first stage of womanhood.
The boxes symbolize a new level of responsibility and care for cherished possessions while also being filled with meaningful jewelry reflecting her growing sense of identity and personal style. The items within could be anything from beaded friendship bracelets to one’s first pair of pierced earrings to a cherished trinket. No matter the value, they remain treasures to their owner. Nonetheless, these boxes are not solely vessels of jewelry but vessels that carry the child across the threshold of young adulthood.
Display
While some boxes are rich with symbolism and personal narrative, others are intended to act as showcases designed to present and enhance the allure of the jewelry they hold. A fascinating example of a jewelry box with this purpose is is this Dutch coffer from the mid 17th century. A dramatic black ebony exterior cloaks the vibrant cabinet interior within that’s waiting to surprise its viewer with unexpected details. Constructed from pine, veneered with ebony and inlaid with that beautiful striated macassar ebony, it features carved busts and a lock. The coffer’s carved exterior opens to unveil an ornate and elaborate interior that’s decorated with padauk wood and painted alabaster panels, ivory and mirror glass.
Inside, we also see alabaster plaques adorned with monochrome landscape paintings, but at the heart of this interior is an unusual five-sided recess with a tiled floor, known as a pecti or “little perspective.” This ingeniously designed space was intended to hold a small, cherished piece that could be viewed from all angles through the surrounding mirrors. More importantly, by displaying a piece in the recess, the jewelry box makes a statement that this specific item should be appreciated, elevating its significance and value.
No matter how well-crafted the box, it has the grace to step back to let the real stars of the show shine. You will also notice that the top can be ingeniously slid open to offer more storage space, and certain drawers feature a hidden second compartment along their backside. Practically, such coffers were used for storing jewelry, with their interior design ensuring that these items were beautifully presented. The blend of materials and detailed interior layout exemplify the meticulous attention to detail typical of Dutch decorative arts from this era. The mirrors within the perspective enhance the viewing experience, allowing jewelry items, like this ruby and pearl mandolin pendant, to be admired from various angles, thereby achieving the dual activity of display and storage in a finely crafted piece.
Now, this mid-6th-century box, with porcelain painted in cobalt blue under a transparent glaze, is a testament to Chinese artistry. It immediately strikes the eye with its most specific detail: its perfectly round shape that could beautifully complement a necklace or bracelet. This box would beautifully emphasize the delicacy and craftsmanship of the jewelry inside. The round shape of the box mirrors the continuous loops of beadwork, creating a harmonious visual alignment between the container and its contents. The circular form acts as a frame, inviting the viewer’s eye to focus on the elegant simplicity and continuity of the jewelry’s shape.
Additionally, the circle holds significant symbolic meaning in Daoism, which adds a layer of cultural resonance to the box’s design. In Daoist philosophy, the circle represents wholeness, unity, and the cyclical nature of life. It symbolizes the Dao itself, the fundamental principle that underlies and unifies all existence. By using a circular box, the maker not only creates a beautiful vessel for jewelry but also evokes these deeper philosophical concepts. The jewelry contained within such a box is not seen merely as an accessory but as an object that is part of a larger interconnected reality, echoing Daoist ideals of harmony and balance.
The symbolic decoration on this rounded box further enhances its significance. The small figures and their attendants shown walking in a procession on the cover depict the Eight Daoist Immortals, a quasi-historical group that gained popularity in the 12th century as Daoism expanded. These figures are shown approaching Shoulao, a popular Daoist divinity often associated with immortality. This imagery aligns with the circular shape of the box, reinforcing themes of eternity, spiritual transcendence, and the timeless connection between art, culture, and spirituality.
The popularity of circular jewelry boxes continued in China for centuries, evidenced by a similar example likely from the 19th century. The box is a hollow wooden circle with a hinged cover secured by a metal holding pin and ring. Its black lacquer top is richly painted in red, gold, and black, depicting a pair of confronted four-clawed dragons chasing a flaming jewel, a symbol of imperial power and good fortune. Inside, the box contains the Chaozu necklace, a long chain of equal-sized amber beads interspersed with four large green jadeite beads and shorter pendants attached. Such necklaces were traditionally part of the regalia for Manchu officials, indicating both the high status of the wearer and the significance of the jewelry.
This particular box was presented to Queen Mary by Lady Elizabeth Dering, wife of Sir Herbert Dering, who served in His Majesty’s diplomatic service in Beijing from 1899 to 1902. The box was accompanied by a note stating that it formerly belonged to the Chinese Imperial family and was among the Dowager Empress of China’s personal jewelry until it was bought after the Boxer Siege of Peking. Because of this, the box holds considerable historical and cultural significance.
The “Boxer Siege” refers to the Boxer Rebellion of 1900 to 1901, a violent uprising aimed at expelling foreign influence from China. Following the suppression of the rebellion by an international coalition in 1901, numerous items, including this jewelry box, were looted from the capital. This box, therefore, occupies a gray ethical area, as its beauty and craftsmanship are intertwined with a history of violence and cultural upheaval. Looted during a period of imperial instability, the object not only reflects the artistry of Chinese craftsmanship but also serves as a reminder of the complex legacies of foreign intervention and the redistribution of cultural treasures under contentious circumstances.
In contrast to the complex history of the looted artifact, we turn now to the walnut surprise ring box by Carin French Jewelers. This box plays a coy game with the treasures it holds, both displaying and subtly concealing the piece. This box, made entirely of rock quartz and gold, was meticulously carved to resemble the textured surface of a walnut and offers a balance between revealing and obscuring. While the transparency of the quartz allows light to reflect off the jewelry inside, creating a subtle sparkle, the intricate walnut texture slightly distorts the view.
The beauty of the quartz walnut lies in its ability to showcase a piece of jewelry, such as a ring, without fully giving away the magic of what’s inside. The viewer catches glimpses of light and form, but the carved design keeps the contents from being fully exposed, heightening the sense of anticipation. It’s a clever nod to the dual purpose of jewelry boxes—both protective and decorative—while inviting a deeper appreciation for the art of display.
Now, this beautifully crafted watch case, made between 1800 and 1830, exemplifies how objects of daily utility, such as timepieces, could be transformed into decorative art pieces through their containers. The case is carved from walrus ivory, a luxurious material often used in fine crafts from this period, and the delicate painting on the case is either done in watercolor or gouache, which were the most common mediums used on ivory miniatures. These pigments, while vibrant and detailed, are highly sensitive to light; over time, exposure could cause them to fade.
The decorative motifs, such as the ship painted at the bottom and the intricate leafy borders, reflect both nautical and natural themes, suggesting a connection to maritime culture, which was prominent during this period. The bird and whale at the top add to this maritime symbolism as well. Now, this case was once owned by George Kraves, who would go on to fund an Arctic expedition in 1929 with a dual purpose of exploration and the collection of ivory. Functionally, this case would display a watch with a circular opening, allowing a view of the watch face. However, its design elevates it beyond a mere functional piece.
The case is freestanding thanks to its four legs, and by encasing the timepiece in such ornate surroundings, the object becomes a symbol of worldly luxury at the intersection of art and utility. Its intricacy and artistry invite contemplation of the owner’s wealth and status while showcasing the watch not only as a tool but as a cherished decorative object.
As timepieces have evolved, so too have the methods of protecting and displaying them, leading to the development of modern innovations like the watch winder. Watch winders are specialized devices designed to keep self-winding watches running when not being worn. These watches operate through the movement of the wearer’s wrist, which winds the mainspring and powers the watch. When left idle, the watch will eventually stop running, losing time and requiring a manual reset. A watch winder simulates the motion of the wrist, keeping the watch wound and therefore accurate even when not in use. This is especially important for watch collectors or anyone who rotates between multiple timepieces, ensuring that each watch remains ready to wear.
The development of the watch winder is understandably intertwined with the development of the self-winding watch. In fact, they were both invented by British watchmaker John Harwood. Prior to the self-winding watch, hand-wound watches dominated, but the winding mechanisms were prone to dust and moisture issues during repairs. While attempting to alleviate this problem, Harwood noticed children on a seesaw and wondered if the same kinetic energy that moved the children up and down could be used to power a watch. The kinetic energy garnered by Harwood’s watches generated tension within the watch’s spring, which was gradually released to power the movement of the hands.
Now, despite Rolex receiving most of the credit for inventing the self-winding watch, Rolex did apologize in 1956 and clarified that, while they improved upon his initial design, Harwood was the true inventor. Thirty years prior, Harwood first showcased his watches in 1926 at the Basel Trade Fair and eventually founded the Harwood Self-Winding Watch Company in 1928. In an attempt to prove that his automatic watches did indeed work, Harwood created the watch winder to assure future customers. This initial winder held 12 watches, and it wasn’t long before jewelry stores started featuring watch winders in their storefronts to highlight the quality of their newest self-winding watches.
Today, while they surely serve a functional purpose—protecting the accuracy of the watch by keeping it wound—I argue that their value as a decorative object should not be overlooked. Their continuous motion draws attention to the sophisticated engineering that powers the watch, making the winder not just a practical tool but a stage that amplifies the elegance and precision of the timepiece. In recent years, technological advancements have made watch winders more sophisticated, with features such as LED lighting, touchscreen controls, and even app connectivity for remote control and customization. These innovations also reflect the growing demand for personalized and high-tech solutions in the luxury watch and jewelry space.
Mobility
In the realm of jewelry storage, mobility has always played a pivotal role, serving both practical needs and cultural functions throughout history. From ancient traders who transported precious goods along the Silk Roads to aristocrats ensuring their treasures accompanied them on grand tours, jewelry boxes have been designed to safeguard and transport valuable items. This evolution continues today, with modern jewelry organizers reflecting one facet of a larger gem when it comes to how we consider the mobility of jewelry. Beyond mere convenience, these mobile storage solutions represent centuries of innovation, adaptation, and the perpetual desire to keep our most cherished adornments close at hand, no matter where we go.
This ornate jewel box is a remarkable piece from the Qing Dynasty, specifically from the Qianlong period, which lasted from 1736 to 1795. Crafted with lacquer and brass, the box exhibits exquisite artistry. The rich red hue, synonymous with high-quality lacquer work from the period, adds to its luxurious appearance, while the brass fixtures offer a sophisticated contrast. When fully assembled, the box resembles a miniature carriage, complete with four movable wheels. The top removes to reveal a tray for storage, and there is also a discrete drawer cleverly positioned between the front two wheels for additional space.
Floral motifs, like the ones carved here, had been popular in Chinese art since the expansion of Buddhism into China via the Silk Road in the 1st and 2nd centuries. To our modern eyes, this jewel box may inspire admiration for its creativity, but in the context of the Qianlong period’s trade and travel, it represents much more than just aesthetic value. The Qianlong period, particularly under the reign of Emperor Qianlong, was marked by significant territorial expansion and the development of infrastructure. Roads and trade routes were critical for communication both within the empire and with neighboring regions. These routes connected distant provinces to the Imperial Court in Beijing, allowing for the efficient movement of goods, officials, and ideas. The roads also held great political significance, as they facilitated the emperor’s control over his vast empire.
Travel was essential for dignitaries, officials, and the wealthy elite, many of whom journeyed to meet the emperor during important events such as the imperial hunts, which were held in the emperor’s vast hunting grounds. These hunts, not merely recreational, were crucial political and ceremonial occasions. Attending such events allowed elites to demonstrate their loyalty and maintain ties with the emperor.
Those wealthy enough to participate in these elite circles might have owned opulent items like this lacquer jewel box, which could have accompanied them on their travels as a symbol of their status and refined taste. The elaborate design of this box, with its wheels and carriage-like form, mirrors the importance of travel in Qian society. For wealthy individuals, their ability to move within the empire’s well-maintained road network was a reflection of their privilege. Its craftsmanship and intricate floral motifs reflect both the cultural trends of the time and the deep connection between art, trade, and status in Qian China.
Trade also played a pivotal role in the creation and distribution of this jewelry box. Crafted in the 1890s from wood bark and vegetable fiber by Mangbetu artists in what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Mangbetu court, established in the 18th century, gained wealth through its control of regional trade routes, which allowed for the commissioning of refined artwork. Traditionally, jewelry boxes were intended to hold the jewelry and hairpins of wealthy Mangbetu women. Typically, boxes used by the Mangbetu people favored more geometric forms. However, this box was produced during a period of immense cultural upheaval—the Scramble for Africa—as European powers raced to colonize the continent.
The Mangbetu people, like many others, faced profound changes. Colonization reshaped the political and economic landscape, disrupting traditional structures and introducing European influence into the region. The anthropomorphic design of this box, featuring two carved legs and a woman’s head, suggests it was likely made for a European market—a direct consequence of the colonizing forces seeking to exploit African art and labor. As European demand for African art grew, Mangbetu artists, whose traditions had long flourished in royal courts, found themselves adapting their styles to suit foreign tastes. They incorporated human and animal figures to appeal to European collectors, thus capitalizing on the economic opportunities presented by cross-cultural trade, even as their autonomy was threatened by colonial rule.
The unknown artist who crafted this box demonstrated not only exceptional skill with an adze—a tool similar to an axe but with an arched blade that runs perpendicular to the handle—but also a keen understanding of European consumer preferences. This box’s human features, especially the woman’s head on the lid, would have been particularly attractive to European buyers. European fascination with Mangbetu hairstyles—notably the practice of tightly binding infants’ heads to create a high forehead, which was a marker of social status and beauty—became a symbol both admired and objectified.
Additionally, the use of Mangbetu bodily imagery eerily reflects the European colonial perspective of African labor, reducing human lives to utilitarian objects and reinforcing exploitative dynamics of perceiving African bodies as mere tools for economic gain. By the late 19th century, Mangbetu artists increasingly produced anthropomorphic art to meet this growing demand. Due to the long-term effects of colonization, few Mangbetu boxes not made for the European market have survived. This jewelry box stands as a complex symbol of the impact of colonization on African art. It tells the story of how Mangbetu artists navigated the intersecting worlds of their own cultural traditions and the burgeoning European market for African art during a time of profound colonial disruption.
Jewelry boxes that are made to travel great distances offer a unique lens into the time periods in which they were crafted, as they reflect not just the practicalities of movement but also the shifting social roles and values of those who traveled. These boxes often reveal clues about how society’s priorities were evolving. For example, in the 1920s, jewelry boxes evolved to accommodate the dynamic lifestyle of independent women in the United States who were enjoying newfound opportunities, such as the right to vote, reflecting their growing presence in public and professional spheres.
The rise of costume jewelry during this era also played a significant role in this evolution. As jewelry became more accessible and affordable, women began to own a greater variety of pieces, necessitating practical yet stylish ways to secure and organize their growing collections. These developments led to the creation of more portable jewelry boxes that combined functionality with fashion. Compact and elegantly designed, these boxes allowed women to organize and access a variety of jewelry pieces, from long strands of pearls to sparkling brooches and statement earrings, making it easy to transition one’s look from day to night.
The design of these boxes was heavily influenced by the Art Deco style, characterized by its emphasis on geometric shapes, symmetry, and high-contrast color palettes. Inside, the boxes were typically lined with soft fabrics like velvet or felt. Here we see one from the Celluloid Corporation, which was founded in 1872 by Celluloid inventors, marking the start of the plastics industry in the United States. This example features the Brinkley pattern, launched in 1929, on the hinged Celluloid box. This box would have been substantially lighter in weight than previous boxes, which makes sense when we consider how much portability was a key feature, mirroring the versatility required by socially active women.
These jewelry boxes often featured secure clasps to ensure that jewelry remained safe while being carried. Many included built-in mirrors, allowing for quick touch-ups and adjustments on the go. They could easily fit into larger handbags or be carried by hand, making them an essential accessory for women who prided themselves on being prepared for any occasion. Moreover, the increased mobility of women during this period—who were moving between apartments and boarding houses and embracing urban living more so than in previous generations—influenced jewelry storage solutions. The need for versatile, compact, and easily transportable jewelry boxes became apparent as these women more frequently changed residences, requiring their valuables to be securely stored and conveniently moved.
As a result, jewelry boxes—once primarily stationary items kept on a vanity—became that much more mobile, reflecting broader cultural shifts toward greater independence and freedom. The popularity of these pieces in the 1920s highlights a time when fashion was not only about aesthetics but also about expressing personal agency and autonomy. Building on this legacy of combining aesthetics with practicality, the Hermès Mallette emerged as a sophisticated solution for the traveling jewelry wearer. Designed as a luxurious combination of handbag and jewelry container, the Mallette was crafted from materials such as fine leather and exotic skins. An iconic example is seen here in Babe Paly’s black crocodile Mallette, which exemplifies Hermès’s commitment to elegance and craftsmanship.
The interior of the Mallette is meticulously organized, featuring compartments and cushioned spaces to protect jewelry. Some items that may have been seen or stored in this Mallette could be this Slumber turquoise and gold ring or these Verdura earrings. The thoughtful design of this case ensures that the owner can travel with their most treasured pieces securely and stylishly. The Hermès Mallette is more than just a storage solution; it is a statement of sophistication and readiness, embodying a lifestyle where luxury seamlessly intertwines with functionality.
This one in particular bears an uncanny similarity to this 15th to 16th-century leather casket. If this leather suppleness is not up to your standard, it is because it is actually a medieval material known as cuir bouilli or boiled leather. This was a significant material used in the medieval period, particularly valued for creating sturdy items. By soaking leather in water and then boiling it, artisans could harden it as it dried, producing a tough yet somewhat flexible material.
This process made cuir bouilli ideal for constructing items on the go, providing both protection and longevity. Its ability to be molded before hardening also allowed for intricate shapes and designs, adding to its popularity and versatility. This one, in particular, bears an inscription that translates to “Follow me” or “Do as I do,” likely a personal motto but one that I think any owner’s patron would also allow on their bag.
As we’ve seen, jewelry boxes are unafraid to reference and beckon to the past while also creating a future where our jewelry is cherished and protected. Their evolving forms have mirrored the desires and values of their owners, serving not just as vessels of protection but as personal expressions of style, identity, and status. From ornately carved Renaissance chests to sleek modern cases designed for travel, the jewelry box has continuously adapted to meet our needs for safeguarding treasured items while offering a platform for display and a way to carry pieces across distances.
Looking ahead, the future of jewelry boxes promises even more integration of functionality and personal expression. Will a lecture on jewelry boxes 30 years from now highlight items like Marla Aaron’s “Everything Box” with its antique sewing box-inspired design? This innovative piece, which blends ample storage with a tactile quality, may one day be recognized as more than just a functional object. Its thoughtful form invites interaction, creating a sensory experience that, in a way, legitimizes and enhances the lifestyle of collecting jewelry. As fine jewelry moves into the novelty space, could the boxes designed to store these pieces follow suit? From unexpected shapes like this aerial Gordon piece to creative materials, these novelty boxes add personality and charm, mirroring the individuality of the pieces they hold.
Could the next big trend in home design be custom-built jewelry storage solutions? As home security innovations advance, the ability to securely store jewelry and luxury items is shifting from a mere perk to an essential feature. Much like custom closets have become staples in modern homes, we may soon see a rise in the demand for bespoke jewelry storage solutions that seamlessly integrate with interior design while providing high-level security. Taking inspiration from the growing market for luxury vaults such as those by Casoro, features like biometric locks, RFID tracking, and discreet alarm systems could become standard. These custom-built boxes, incorporated into walls or furnishings, would not only enhance the aesthetic appeal of the space but also offer advanced protection, reflecting the growing desire for personalized and secure living environments.
At the same time, rising living costs and sustainability concerns might push us toward repurposing everyday items, such as oyster dishes and ashtrays, into creative jewelry storage solutions. As the housing crisis deepens, we could see a divide where bespoke, high-end storage caters to those who can afford it, while vertical space-saving designs become essential for continuous renters.
Regardless of how the jewelry box continues to evolve, these objects will undoubtedly remain significant in our lives as both functional and sentimental items. Jewelry boxes have always served as more than just storage; they are the protectors of memories, holding not just valuable pieces but the personal stories attached to them. No matter what the exact future of the jewelry box will look like, these objects will continue to be meaningful as they accompany us through life’s journeys, ensuring our treasures remain both secure and close to our hearts. Thank you so much.
Emily Hupp attended the New School and currently works as a project manager at Warby Parker. She is a proud member of the American Society of Jewelry Historians. An artist and sustainability advocate, Emily values the longevity of fine jewelry and its ability to transcend generations. Her passion for jewelry history is deeply connected to her commitment to preserving the beauty and craftsmanship of the past. Through her TikTok, @futuresecondwife, she connects with others who share her passion for jewelry and fashion history. Additionally, Emily volunteers with the New York Junior League and is dedicated to preserving the historic Astor House, their cherished home.
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