White Copper Antique Seven Grain Rice Pendant

As a pendant, seven grains of rice are easier to arrange than on a ring. The seven stack in a vertical line, a ring added at the top and the bottom rounded off, so the whole reads as a small head of rice. Gaps are left between grains and the dark kept in them, so antiquing separates grain from grain. Standing them in a column avoids closing a circle, which does away with the crowded point where the ends meet. The ring has to sit dead centre at the top. Off to one side and the pendant hangs crooked, no adjustment holds it straight, and a day of wearing is enough to annoy anyone.

A grain should be plump, slightly pointed at both ends and swelling in the middle. Too round and it becomes a string of beads and stops being rice; too flat and it looks like a melon seed. Count them when you buy: seven should be seven. Some moulds turn out six and a half, the top grain half swallowed by the ring. If you cannot count them clearly, do not buy. The surface should keep a little tooth. Polish it all bright and under light it becomes a string of water drops, and the shape of rice is gone.

The pendant is light, so the chain need not be heavy. A fine Chopin link suits it exactly: tight, and it will not tangle. The pendant-alone option is for anyone who already has a chain; a waxed cord at home looks well too, in off-white or dark brown. Avoid bright red. Red cord cannot hold its own against the cold of white copper, unless the piece is for a child. Choose a lobster clasp. Spring clasps loosen with use, and these grains are small — drop one and it is gone for good, with no replacement to be had.

In folk custom rice is what you eat, and the number seven carries a different story in every region; put together, the two mean having food on the table. It is a plain idea, and it is genuinely what the older generation meant. Do not push it towards attracting wealth — add too much and it turns false. If someone asks whether seven has a particular significance, say the stories vary by place, and the question passes. When giving one, do not overstate it. Calling it an old saying is safer than claiming it brings protection, and it invites fewer follow-ups.

Worn against the skin, white copper darkens at the back first in anyone who sweats. A cloth will not reach the hollows; a cotton bud will. Do not carry it in a pocket with keys — the points of the grains round off faster than anything, and once rounded the piece loses its bite. The antiqued dark does not take rubbing. Scrub hard and the whole string goes pale, and it has to be recoloured, so better to keep your hands off it. Antiqued pieces fear rubbing, sweat and sulphur. Avoid those three and the colour will last some years; if it does not last, that is normal too.