C. 17th-century collar of Bavarian order of chivalry, hand for scale
I recently learned the German word for jewelry, and I’m still in disbelief. Drumoll, please. The word, with a big thanks to my multilingual friend Matt, is Schmuck.
Now I consider myself a fairly worldly person by American standards, and have a decent working vocabulary in the realm of western European art and objects. I’ve yawned at countless artworks entitled “Landschaft mit Schafen” (landscape with sheep) without any translational hiccups. And yet, somehow, in a decade-plus career in art and jewelry, I managed to have missed the linguistic gem that is Schmuck.
Why was I so struck by this, you might ask? Well, as a nice Azkenazi girl, schmuck to me has one meaning, and that’s the Yiddish one. It’s for jerk, idiot, loser–a catch-all that appropriately describes an outsized proportion of men in New York’s dating pool (so I’m told). More literally, it translates to “penis.”
According to my research, the Yiddish schmuck comes from the old Polish “smok” translating to snake or dragon, and you can handle the remaining phallic math on your own. The German word, which encompasses adornment and decoration, as well as jewelry, comes from the early German root “smuck” (High German) - to adorn; to dress up, as well as “smuk” (Low German) meaning tidy or elegant.
To bridge the gap: both schmucks denote an appendage of sorts. One is the so-called dragon-snake that half the population is born with. But the other type–jewels, adornment, decoration–is, arguably, equally central to the human experience.
[sidebar]
I recently casually remarked at how obsessed I am with all things reflective (while playing with shiny treebark in the sunshine in Vermont). A friend immediately jokingly replied, “‘Reflectivity’ sounds like the premise of a Gallatin major,” Gallatin being NYU’s (sanctimonious?) design-your-own-major “concentration.” And, in all fairness, that does sound like a course of study I’d happily enroll in.
The reasoning behind humans’ attraction to shiny things, however, is deceivingly straightforward and perhaps not worthy of an entire undergraduate degree. We’re instinctively drawn to water and its glimmering surfaces. Our love for sparkle appears to be, at least in part, a hardwired search for hydration. To thirst for jewelry is to appease a basic quest. Which means we can make a small leap of faith and surmise: a love for jewelry is really an exceptionally strong survival instinct shining through!
As a bonus, let’s now consider the rebrand of the word “thirsty” over the last decade or so. Thirsty now often means needy and attention-seeking, and with sexual undertones. When someone is extravagantly overadorned or dressed in an especially showy way—jewelry or otherwise—we might label them “thirsty.” But if you follow the logic above, you’ll see thirsty people are really just trying to survive and thrive!
[end of sidebar]
The founding of Rebecca Rau Jewels has really been an exercise in absorbing and romancing the various ways people have adorned their bodies across millennia and across cultures. And let me tell you, it’s endless. Schmuck signifies status, spiritualism, craft, ceremony, beauty, a reverence for nature, and so much more. In other words, schmucks (the literal kind (and their contribution to the continuation of the human race)) beget Schmuck (jewelry and adornment). It’s simply the cycle of life.
Bonus Content: Bavarian Schmuck Highlights of 2025
19th-century spinel, ruby, and diamond Bavarian diadem
In effort not to be a schmuck, let me tell you about my dalliance with exquisite Schmuck on a quick jaunt to Munich this summer. In one glorious day, I experienced both the Royal Bavarian Treasury and Hemmerle’s factory and new boutique.
First, another linguistic detour: the German word for treasury is Schatzkammer or “treasure chamber.” I must therefore ask: is Schmuckkamker widely utilized? Perhaps a missed opportunity. It also makes me realize I was lucky enough to spend my youth—and the bulk of my career—inside what is essentially a Schmuckkunstkammer.
Back to Munich. In short a group of gem and jewelry nerds ooh’d and ahh’d at the absolute maximalism of the collection which spanned medieval and Renaissance, plus a parade of 19th-century crown jewels. We voiced our thoughts on the miscategorization of spinels as rubies, relished in the ornate enamel work, luxuriated in diamonds, heavy sapphires, and much more.
Here are some highlights from the visit:
11th-century Gisela Cross featuring exquisite cloisonné enamel, pearls & gold work
16th-century Saint George Reliquary Statuette decorated in pink gemstones
14th-century English Royal Crown
The Schatzkammer’s historical maximalism contrasted beautifully with the loud minimalism (or quiet maximalism?) of Hemmerle’s collection. It was interesting to situate this tour-de-force firm within a wider arc of Bavarian gemmological history. And I was impressed by the atmosphere of zen in their workshop.
Hemmerle bronze & diamond ring (both of exquisite weight)
Hemmerle Citrine & titanium earrings
Hemmerle is a firm that I (and many others) keep on a pedestal. That’s largely due to their marriage of analogue craftsmanship with innovative, fresh design. I love their use of quotidian metals and materials, and their ability to elevate them into high jewelry. They have fun playing with color, but in a way that is restrained enough to remain serious. Their aesthetic feels contemporary yet steeped in heritage and artisanry. And this appropriately honors their legacy of 130-plus years in business.
Hemmerle earrings
Slow and steady may be the only respectable way to get properly Schmucked up. Quality takes time. Better to honor this millennia-old tradition than to rush it like a greedy schmuck.