Read My Pins (10 page)

small American flag, designer unknown;

large Fight for Freedom torch, DMW;

WWII ribbon, Silson;

Stars and Stripes, Ciner;

small Fight for Freedom torch, DMW.

Uncle Sam Top Hat

Eagle, Trifari.

JOYCE NALTCHAYAN/GETTY IMAGES
I wore my Chinese shard dragon pin when testifying before Congress concerning U.S.-China relations.

JOYCE NALTCHAYAN/GETTY IMAGES

As my pins became more expressive and drew more comments, I had cause to reflect on the relationship between appearance and identity. To what extent, to adapt the old saying, do pins make the woman or, for that matter, the man? After all, the display of pins has never been confined to one gender. Medieval knights wore
elaborate jeweled badges that defined their status and conferred a group identity. A fourteenth-century English lad could have no higher aspiration than to advertise a connection to the royal family by embellishing his cloak with the Order of the Garter’s radiant star. Conspirators on all sides in the English Civil War used pins, rings, and lockets to signal their loyalties to friends without tipping off their enemies. George Washington sometimes wore a spectacular diamond eagle, based on a design by Pierre L’Enfant and given to him by the French Navy, that included no fewer than 198 precious stones. Pottery pioneer Josiah Wedgwood, Washington’s contemporary, manufactured a medallion to be worn by opponents of the slave trade. Exquisitely carved, the cameo showed a black man in chains with the question, “Am I not a man and a brother?”

One of my many bold pins.
Colorful bird, Iradj Moini.

THE TRUSTEES OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM
Josiah Wedgwood’s abolitionist medallion.
Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum.

ESM pin, Cartier;

saxophone, Kenneth Jay Lane;