Still dramatic, but more of an insider’s flex, is Taylor Swift’s antique cushion, a cut prized by collectors for its soft, pillowy shape. Old stones like hers often have an open culet—the tiny, flat facet at the very bottom of the diamond that gives vintage cuts their distinctive, more muted glow. “The antique cushion has been an insider stone forever,” Everett says. “There’s always been a small but passionate group of buyers looking for those, and great old ones are rare.”
Lauren Sánchez’s 30-carat pink cushion-cut, practically a character in its own right, pushes the aesthetic to its logical extreme. Once a stone passes the 10-carat mark, it starts to behave differently: you have to take it off for all kinds of reasons, and if you can’t wear it habitually, then is it really an engagement ring anymore? This is the point where the ring becomes a status symbol first and a symbol of commitment second. And with the rise of the perfectly staged ring shot, it becomes content, too.
New York-based jewelry designer Sarah Dyne points out that, in today’s market, size isn’t the problem, proportion is. “Sometimes a large surface area on the finger is actually very flattering,” she says. “But it’s really about the harmony the stone has with the metal around it. When a stone sits too high, it feels like it’s just stuck on top rather than integrated into the design.” For Dyne, this is what separates a great big diamond from a gaudy one: the way the shank, prongs, and any halo work together in balance. It’s when those details fight that you get the dreaded ring-pop, costume-jewelry effect.
Everett places today’s mega-rings in a long continuum. “When you go back to some of the great collections of the ’20s and ’30s, they always had a giant diamond,” he says. “The big houses were making major diamond rings in the Art-Deco period, but they were worn like evening rings, the way you’d also have a colored stone ring with a huge emerald or sapphire.”
