Covered in Clover

ABOUT A year ago, my friend Jane called, excited, almost in a panic. MS NOW political commentator Nicolle Wallace was wearing “my” Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra necklace. Further, there was MS NOW political strategist Symone Sanders-Townsend sporting a dainty pendant of Alhambra in onyx. Was there a political message in the cloverleaf-inspired design that we had to decode? Were these women signaling something?

Yes, they were signaling something, but it had nothing to do with politics. They were telegraphing the news that they had fallen for the delicate charms of Alhambra, the quatrefoil design introduced by Van Cleef & Arpels in 1968 and heavily publicized in the past decade or more. England’s Kate Middleton has embraced the look, as have Queen Camilla (it is said) and Lauren Sánchez Bezos. So that’s quite a range.

I am an unworthy member of the Alhambra coterie, not being any kind of public personality. To recycle Julia Roberts’s line to Hugh Grant in the delicious Notting Hill, I’m . . . just a girl standing in front of . . . a necklace that makes me feel good every time I wear it. (Especially when I can say “yes” every time someone asks me if it’s the real thing—and they do.)

It’s a necklace so powerful that my sister, who isn’t remotely in tune with my style choices, sat back when she first spotted my mother-of-pearl Vintage Alhambra and said, and I quote, “Oh! I love those.” Followed quickly by “ . . . but I like it in onyx.”

(Guess what I got her for her 65th birthday: yup, in onyx. Got Good Sister points for that one.)

From the Rebag resale site’s 2025 Clair Report on luxury goods: Van Cleef & Arpels led the gold-jewelry resale category by retaining 112 percent of original price. I would bet that the many manifestations of Alhambra had a lot to do with that. And thanks to the exposure given by Wallace, there’s now a “Nicolle Wallace Clover Necklace Marketplace” on Etsy, for goodness’ sake.

There’s a world within the Alhambra world. There’s Vintage Alhambra, with tiny 18-karat-gold beads surrounding each “motif,” as the little quatrefoils are called. Then there’s Sweet Alhambra, same design, smaller size. And Pure Alhambra, whose bezel surrounding each motif is smooth gold. And Magic Alhambra, featuring mixed stones in different sizes and can be worn long or short. As I said, it’s a world within a world.

Alhambra, and all the spinoffs by other luxury houses, are part of the quiet-luxury moment, I would guess (although all-diamond motifs could raise Alhambra’s voice by quite a few decibels). It’s generally a well-behaved piece of jewelry, the 10-motif version nestling gently near the collarbone for a polished daytime look. A look that doesn’t broadcast “I spent $10,200 on this!” *

Except, of course, it does, among those who know. Which, I suppose is the point: the Sisterhood of the Quiet Quatrefoil. This little handmade treasure occupies the Valhalla of luxury goods alongside the Hermès Kelly bag.** But change is afoot: One day maybe seven, eight years ago, a young girl showed up at the dog park. I don’t remember her dog because I focused on the large-size malachite Alhambra pendant around her neck (currently $3,750). Her grandmother had given it to her for her high school graduation! Yes, the Sisterhood seems to be getting younger.

* It was less expensive 10 or so years ago when I went Van Cleef shopping.

**I sold my Kelly a few years ago when I wanted to have built-in bookcases more than I wanted the handbag. The bookcases are more useful. So be it.