Durham Leon Jewelers

Once Upon A Time, diamonds were very, very rare.
Really.
Until 1866, only a few scattered places in Russia and the Far East had mines. Diamond production was so limited, that even members of the aristocracy largely ignored them. Rubies, emeralds, and sapphires were the serious bling of the day; the prized tokens of Mother Earth’s eons of hidden labor.
Then a farmer in South Africa found a pretty pebble on a hill. It was the tip of the largest deposit of diamonds on earth. Prospectors bum-​rushed the area, and diamonds flooded the market.
By 1874, the busy miners had dug up so many diamonds that the market collapsed, and a handful of glitter wouldn’t buy you a Mocha Latte Grande. The men standing on the richest piece of real estate on the face of the earth were dirt poor.
Enter rakish entrepreneur and local nutter Cecil Rhodes, an Oxford man from the Mother Country. Dipping into the family till, he bought up the place and established a little company called De Beers.
You might have heard of it.
By the late 1800s, De Beers controlled 90% of the diamond market. But CR knew that controlling the supply meant nothing if there was no demand. In spite of the burgeoning tide of diamonds in the market, no one knew what to do with the blessed things.
Then something occurred to CR. Something devilishly clever. He pitched the diamond as the perfect stone …
… for engagement rings.
Before De Beers, those well-​off enough to afford a ring with a stone bought the usual suspects — rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. Diamonds just weren’t a part of the equation.
Rubies had red, for passion and love. Emeralds were radiant and deep. Sapphires … matched lots of outfits, I guess. You tell me.
CR pitched diamonds to the middle class as the perfect engagement stone, their clarity symbolizing the purity of YOUR LOVE. Women around the world went «Awww…» and the other half of us have been paying for it ever since.
Old Man Rhodes’ marketing campaign was so successful, that it never occurs to most couples today to consider anything but diamonds for their special day. (Well, HER special day. Grooms are mobile accessories, like husbands, or ‘Ken’ dolls from the Barbie! Pre-​Nup «Vegas Adventure» Party Playset.)
So chances are, if you’re getting married or looking for fine jewelry, you’ll be browsing through countless glass cases of mall-​grade baubles in chain stores, staffed by people who hate people and like you even less. Salesmen who hock gold chains and princess solitaires by day and used Pontiacs by night.
If you don’t feel like you’re being ignored or ripped-​off within the first five minutes, leave, because the store is obviously closed.
BUT …
Lucky are you beyond compare who live in DFW, because here resides a known master jeweler of the highest caliber. A man who values personal service and building relationships with his clients, no matter who they are or how much they mean to the bottom line.
Leon is a true hidden gem.
You might not know his name, but you may know of his work. Among his many other triumphs, he designed and wrought most of the jewelry for a TV show called «Dallas». He also custom-​made one of Elizabeth Taylor’s engagement rings. (#5 I think.)
And although he is now semi-​retired, he still receives custom orders from celebrities, industry players, and the amazingly wealthy from LA to New York and beyond. His name and talents are well-​known to professionals and appraisers throughout DFW and the country.
Despite this imposing pedigree, Leon is a kind and humble gentleman. He loves his job, and will entertain any order just for the opportunity to create another tiny work of art. From the grand to the simple and bland, he guides his clients through their options and follows the old dictum that the customer is always right.
But he offers more than just service and advice. As a jeweler, he can source whatever gems you need from the wholesale markets, using his longtime connections to score little flashy bits of rock others might never find.
Once, he sourced a rather «large» teardrop ruby (manufactured) for a pendant I presented to my wife as forgiveness for a 1^st year of marriage. At the time, it was the only one of its size available in the country in that cut, and it took him a couple weeks of digging to find and persuade from the hands of a reluctant seller.
In the end, it wasn’t a very expensive piece, and he gave us his typical, enormous discount for the work — but he treated our purchase as if it were a royal commission.
Leon’s hours are short (he likes to fish), and you must call to book an appointment in advance. His studio is in a building full of independent jewelers, double locked doors, and security cameras. (The Pinkerton Detective Agency even has an office on his floor.) Don’t be shocked if you see men there handcuffed to metal briefcases — it’s just the latest commission from NY, dahling.