Good Men Deserve Good Jewelry. Mejuri’s Make a Great Gift.

As a young boy raised in a deeply Catholic suburb of Philadelphia, I knew three things to be gospel: Pretzels are best in an elongated knot, a long sandwich is a hoagie, and (besides puka-shell necklaces from the Jersey Shore or a utilitarian watch) boys didn’t wear jewelry.

On the whole, the sartorial selections available to boys in my milieu were minimal. We were clad in matching sweater vests and turtlenecks in grade school, and we donned button-ups, slacks, and ties in high school. I knew that men could wear whatever they wanted beyond my world, but their jewelry was what I longed for most. I would peer at the TV or my computer screen, ogling the gold hoops and dainty chains I saw on the men on the other side, but I never crossed the threshold. I knew my place.

But then, like many men, I grew up. I rebelled, piercing my ears and nose and adorning them with whatever $15 could get me on Amazon or ASOS. I learned the hard way that bad jewelry can turn your ears black and that forcing an imprecisely sized ring can result in a trip to the fire department to get the band sawed off.

This approach tided me over during my college years and some change, but when I moved to New York, I was dazzled by the array of styles the men wore. I spotted rings gleaming from every finger, radiant studs or hoops dangling from their earlobes, and shiny silver chains hanging from their necks. The big city, combined with a job at Wirecutter (where I quickly learned the value of great over good enough), inspired me to make a bold request of my partner on my 26th birthday: a proper, high-quality chain. (Wise man that he is, he gave me his credit card and told me to hunt for it myself.)

This chunky curb chain comes in four lengths in sterling silver or one length in titanium.

This thinner, 3.8-mm curb chain comes in a variety of lengths and in sterling silver, gold vermeil, or 14-karat yellow gold.

And that is how, on a Saturday afternoon in July, I found myself at a Mejuri store in SoHo. I’d seen the company’s ads online and its earrings in person, mostly via the women in my life. Yet I was put onto its men’s offerings when I spotted the sterling silver, 5-mm Curb Chain Necklace which our gifts experts in our gift guide for boyfriends at the time.

According to Mejuri’s site, the chain’s sterling silver is 92.5% pure silver, which makes it a lightweight but still highly durable material. The slightly thinner and sleeker 3.8-mm variety of the curb chain was more my style. The least expensive chain ran 16 inches long — a little short by chain standards, so it hewed close to my collarbone, but as soon as I had it on my neck, it felt as if it had already become part of my skin. I gleefully swiped my partner’s card and took it — along with a single white gold huggie hoop — home.

After almost three years of frequent wear, the chain has held up astonishingly well. I have never once had to clean or shine it, and it still looks just as good as the day I bought it. The chain has become a crucial part of my wardrobe: I don’t feel like I’m properly dressed for the coffee shop, the office, or a night out without it.

My only gripe is that I have to clasp the chain closed through a short chain at the end, which has knotted up for me considerably — so much so that staff at the same Mejuri store told me there was “no hope” of unknotting it. But new versions of the chain now have just one clasp to close the necklace, seemingly rendering this problem moot.

Despite the fiddly clasp, getting that chain felt like a badge of honor. It was proof that I’d grown beyond what I thought I could into something a bit closer to what young Phillip saw on the other side of those screens.

And this chain has let loose the jewelry dam for our household: I’ve gifted my partner his own pair of white gold huggie hoops, which he often bedecks with a pearl charm, and he added to my collection two years ago with a box-chain bracelet that I adore, especially paired with my chain. We’ve kept the tradition going, too. I bought him this sexy onyx ring and got myself this beautiful green tiger eye bracelet last Christmas; this year, I’m eyeing their sculptural dôme figure ring for him and a simple signet ring for myself.

Mejuri’s only miss for me has been a stacker ring I bought for myself between the holidays — it scratched easily in the mere month or two I wore it before it split down the middle. (I did not contact Mejury about replacing the ring at the time.)

They’re not indestructible, either; the spring in the bracelet’s clasp broke a few weeks ago, rendering it unwearable for the moment — but my research suggests the latter is an easy and common repair.

Despite those bumps in the road, I still firmly endorse Mejuri — especially for anyone on the hunt for subtle-yet-well-made pieces that can be worn day in and day out and that are likely to hold up for a long time.

Advertising and traditional gender roles tell you that jewelry is for women, and women alone. But everyone deserves to adorn themselves however they see fit. And if you’re anything like me, that means dripping in a sensible amount of silver or gold. What can I say? Everybody deserves a little luxury.

This article was edited by Hannah Rimm and Maxine Builder.