Did Queen Elizabeth II Really Have Bad Taste in Jewels?”

They called her jewels monstrous, heavy, clunky, even embarrassing compared to the masterpieces her grandmother Queen Mary left behind. But here's the question, was Queen Elizabeth II truly a poor designer? Or have we all judged her too harshly? In this video, we'll walk through every jewel she personally commissioned, from fiery rubies to ocean blue sapphires and towering aquamarines. Some sparked mockery, others quiet admiration. And a few, worn today by Queen Camilla and the Princess of Wales, are finding new appreciation. So join me as we uncover whether Elizabeth's creations were true failures, or misunderstood gems waiting for their moment to shine. Before we begin, please support my channel by clicking on the like and subscribe buttons. Thank you. To understand Elizabeth's journey as a jewelry commissioner, we first have to talk about her grandmother, Queen Mary. Let's be honest, Queen Mary was a true master, a jewelry genius. She saw potential where others saw outdated relics. In the world of royal jewel enthusiasts, her name has even become a verb. To Queen Mary, something means to take a piece and brilliantly rework it, sometimes ruthlessly, into a new masterpiece. She had a vision and she wasn't afraid to use it. But her granddaughter, Elizabeth, was a different story entirely. She was, first and foremost, a guardian, a custodian of history. She inherited one of the world's most magnificent collections, and with very few exceptions, she kept it exactly as it was. She understood that these weren't just stones, they were artifacts, silent witnesses to history, and for that, we owe her a debt of gratitude. So if she was such a careful preserver of others' jewels, what happened when she commissioned her own? It all started so promisingly, almost like a fairy tale. When Princess Elizabeth married in 1947, she received some truly dreamlike gifts. One of them was a magnificent 54.5 carat uncut pink diamond, a wedding present from a Canadian geologist named John Thoburn Williamson. A stone this rare and important gave the young princess a unique opportunity to create something entirely new. And here's a fascinating detail that might just be the key to this particular story. She didn't do it alone. She consulted the one person who knew more about royal jewels than anyone, her grandmother, Queen Mary. There are these wonderful photos of them together in March 1948, visiting the diamond-cutting factory in Clerkenwell, peering over the jeweler's shoulder as the stone was being shaped. And true to form, Queen Mary reportedly asked a whole lot of questions. After the cutting was complete, the result was a flawless 23.6 carat pink diamond. Now it needed a home. After considering putting it in a grand tiara or a necklace, Elizabeth chose something more modern and versatile, a brooch. She turned to Cartier, her parents' favorite jeweler, to bring the vision to life. The design, created by Frederick Mew of Cartier's London branch, was a delicate jonquil flower crafted in platinum and sparkling with an additional 203 white diamonds to frame the magnificent pink stone. The brooch was completed in 1953, her coronation year, and it's not an exaggeration to say it's considered a triumph. It's perfectly balanced, timeless, and it became one of her absolute favorites. She wore it for everything from official portraits with her young children, Charles and Anne, to the weddings of her sons, and even her silver jubilee service in 1977, a complete success story. And that wasn't the only treasure from that time. For her 21st birthday, also in 1947, she received a stunning diamond necklace from the people of South Africa. It originally featured 21 large, brilliant-cut diamonds, one for each year of her life. The queen herself reportedly called them her best diamonds. A few years later, in 1952, she had the necklace shortened slightly to better suit her style, and the six leftover diamonds were crafted into a simple, elegant, and deeply personal, another undisputed success. So with these two masterpieces in her collection, you'd think the stage was set for a lifetime of impeccable jewelry commissions. But this is where our story takes a turn, and where the debate truly begins. Because while everyone admires these early pieces, her later projects would provoke very, very different reactions. This brings us to a fundamental question about royal collections. What is more important, creative innovation like Queen Mary's, which gives us new masterpieces but erases the old, or the careful preservation of history like Elizabeth's, which respects the past but sometimes results in more conservative designs? I'd love to know what you think, because when the needed a ruby tiara of her own, she made a decision that is still debated to this day. So the queen needed a ruby tiara. But why? She had access to the crown jewels, right? Well, yes and no. The most magnificent ruby tiara in the collection, the Oriental Circlet, was a favorite of her mother's. And after the king's death, the young Queen Elizabeth made the very gracious decision to let her mother keep wearing it, along with a few other heirlooms of the crown. So for decades, the grandest ruby pieces were simply not in her jewelry box. If she wanted a ruby tiara for state occasions, she would have to create one herself. And the story of how she did it begins with another remarkable gift. For her wedding in 1947, the people of Burma sent her 96 flawless rubies. This wasn't just a random number. In Burmese culture, there's a belief that these stones protect the wearer from 96 diseases that can afflict the human body. Think about that for a moment. It wasn't just a gift of gems. It was a gift of goodwill, a wish for a long and healthy life. For a young monarch, that must have held a very special significance. But these precious symbolic rubies sat in the vault for over 25 years. It wasn't until 1973 that the queen finally decided to give them a grand setting. She had the sentiment, she had the rubies. Now she just needed the diamonds. And this is where things get very, very controversial. To source the diamonds for her new tiara, a sacrifice had to be made. The sacrificial lamb was none other than the Nizam of Hyderabad tiara. This was an exquisitely delicate floral diamond tiara made by Cartier, which the queen had received as a wedding gift. For years, jewel watchers mourned its disappearance, and only in 2012 was it confirmed that it had been dismantled. For many, this was an unforgivable act of jewelry vandalism, destroying a historic Cartier masterpiece to create something new. And what was the result? The Burmese ruby tiara, made by the crown jeweler Gerard. The design is deeply symbolic, a wreath of heraldic Tudor roses. The rubies form the red petals of the House of Lancaster, and the diamonds from the dismantled Nizam tiara form the white petals of the House of York. It's a powerful emblem of English history. And yet, visually, it's one of the most divisive royal tiaras in modern history. It is unmistakably a product of the 1970s. Critics have called it clunky, noting that the rubies are set in heavy gold cups that make them look like blobs sticking out from the frame. But honestly, I'm going to defend it. I don't see it as a failure at all. And interestingly, many people who have seen this tiara up close, in person, completely agree. They say that photographs just don't do it justice. The staggering quality of the stones, the sparkle of the diamonds, the sheer craftsmanship, apparently, it's breathtaking in real life. And I think if you look closely, you can see that regal power on Queen Elizabeth herself. Especially in her younger years, against her dark hair, the bold Tudor roses created a striking, majestic look that was entirely her own. The fact that Queen Camilla has chosen to continue wearing this tiara, and that so many have praised how powerfully it suits a new queen, only proves that this symbolic piece was never a failure. It's a strong, symbolic tiara fit for a monarch in any era. But a tiara is rarely worn alone. The queen needed necklaces to complete her ruby ensembles, and her choices here are just as fascinating and debated. In 1964, she personally purchased a piece now known as the Bearing Ruby Necklace. It's an antique design with flat-cut rubies and three distinctive pendant stones that were likely once earrings. Its design has certainly sparked debate. Online, jewelry enthusiasts have called its central element clunky and a muddled mess. And yet, it's important to remember this wasn't an heirloom she was obligated to wear. This was a piece the queen chose. She bought it herself and wore it for decades, clearly feeling it filled an important role in her collection. Of course, when we talk about her ruby necklaces, we have to mention the undisputed star of the show, the spectacular Greville Ruby Necklace. This romantic, floral masterpiece by Boucheron was a wedding gift from her mother. And here, we see another perfect example of Elizabeth's philosophy as a custodian of jewels. Early in her reign, she did have it altered slightly, shortening it to better suit the fashionable necklines of the 1950s. But, and this is a crucial detail, the two diamond and ruby sections that were removed were carefully preserved. This means the necklace could, theoretically, be restored to its original, longer length at any time. She didn't destroy or irreversibly change the essence of the piece. She adapted it respectfully. So the story of the rubies is one of sacrifice and bold, controversial design. But her journey with another key royal color, majestic sapphire blue, begins in a much more intimate place, not with a diplomatic gift, but with a father's love. It's a story that would lead her to one of her most practical and yet, somehow, one of her most debated solutions. So let's travel back once more to that pivotal year, 1947. Princess Elizabeth had just married her Philip, and amidst the thousands of wedding gifts, there was one that would become one of the most precious in her collection. It came from the person she loved so dearly, her father, King George VI. He gave her an antique sapphire suite, a necklace and matching earrings that had been crafted during Queen Victoria's reign around 1850. These weren't flashy, newly made pieces. They were dignified, substantial jewels with real history behind them. The sapphires were described by playwright Noel Coward, of all people, as the largest sapphires I have ever seen. Coming from someone who moved in the most glamorous circles of his time, that's quite the endorsement. It was clearly a treasured possession. You can see from early portraits how often the young princess wore it. Early in her reign, she had the necklace shortened by removing several of the sapphire clusters. But true to her nature as a preserver, she didn't let them go to waste. She commissioned for those leftover links to be made into this beautiful matching bracelet. Nothing was wasted. Instead, the suite actually grew. Then she added yet another element, a detachable sapphire and diamond pendant. This gave her wonderful versatility. She could wear the necklace in its sleek shortened form for more understated occasions or add the pendant for grander events. These modifications were genuinely successful, creating multiple jewelry options from her father's original gift while respecting its essence. By the early 1960s, though, she had a new problem. The sapphire necklace, bracelet, and earrings were beautiful, but they didn't have a matching tiara. For a monarch who needed to coordinate her jewels with various order sashes and ceremonial requirements, this was more than just an aesthetic issue. So in 1963, she made a characteristically practical decision. She purchased a 19th century sapphire necklace that had once belonged to Princess Louise of Belgium, daughter of King Leopold II. Louise had led quite a scandalous life, affairs, time in an asylum, divorce, and eventually had to sell her jewelry to pay off debts. But that's another story entirely. What matters for our purposes is that Elizabeth saw potential in Louise's necklace. She had it mounted on a tiara frame, creating what we now know as the Belgian Sapphire Tiara. And this is where the criticism began. Looking at the finished piece, you can immediately tell it was originally designed to be worn horizontally around the neck, not vertically on the head. The elements that now point upward were clearly meant to dangle downward as pendants. Online jewelry enthusiasts haven't been kind. They've dubbed it the corgi paw because of its distinctive shape and criticized it as And yet, I think there's a strong case to be made in its defense. Her goal here wasn't radical design. It was to create a harmonious whole, and she succeeded. The color and style of the sapphires in the tiara are a perfect match for her father's suite. When worn together, the entire perure looks incredibly cohesive and regal. It may not be the most architecturally perfect tiara, but as part of a grand ensemble, it absolutely works. And here's the thing that really matters. This sapphire suite has found new life in our current era. Queen Camilla has embraced these pieces wholeheartedly, wearing them for some of the most significant occasions of the new reign. She chose the sapphire tiara and necklace for the very first state banquet of King Charles's reign in November African state visit. Think about that for a moment. With access to the entire royal jewelry collection, including the most famous and historically significant pieces, Camilla selected Elizabeth's personally commissioned sapphire set. That's not an accident. Sometimes the test of a piece isn't whether it wins immediate acclaim, but whether it proves its worth over time. And these sapphires, born from a father's love and shaped by a daughter's practical wisdom, seem to be passing that test beautifully. But the George VI suite and its converted tiara weren't the queen's only foray into the world of sapphires. In 1979, during a landmark tour of the Gulf states, she received another spectacular set as a gift from Sheikh Rashid of Dubai. This was a modern, dazzling creation from the London jeweler Asprey, featuring large sapphires set in intricate diamond loops. And unlike some of her other jewels, her reaction to this one was immediate and clear. She reportedly exclaimed in amazement when she saw it. It was bold, opulent, and very much a statement of its time. But as was her habit, she found it a little too grand for regular wear, and decided to make some practical adjustments. And her changes here are another brilliant example of her thoughtful, no-waste philosophy. She had the necklace shortened, but the two leftover sapphire loops weren't just put away in a vault. They were transformed into a new, more delicate pair of earrings. And what about the original, very large earrings and the She had them combined to create a single, substantial bracelet. It was a masterful edit. She took an almost overwhelmingly magnificent gift and cleverly reworked it into a more versatile and wearable set of jewels, without losing its essence. In May 2021, the Queen loaned these very earrings to Catherine, the Princess of Wales, for an event in Scotland. They looked equally elegant on the Queen herself, and seeing them on Catherine really proves how beautifully they can be styled across generations. Personally, I think turning part of this magnificent necklace into earrings was a brilliant idea. What do you think about this transformation? But the next commission we're going to look at presented an entirely different challenge. It's a story of modernism, politics, and some of the most difficult and magnificent stones in her collection, the aquamarines. And it all began with her coronation in 1953. As nations around the world sent gifts to honor the new monarch, the President and people of Brazil presented her with a magnificent suite of jewels that was, in a word, breathtaking. The original gift, created by Mappin and Webb in Rio de Janeiro, consisted of a stunning necklace with nine enormous, perfectly matched rectangular aquamarines set in intricate diamond and platinum scrolls, with an even larger detachable aquamarine pendant. It also included a pair of matching drop earrings. These weren't just any aquamarines. They were a showcase of Brazil's finest natural treasures. And this gift had a unique quality. It kept growing. In 1958, on another occasion, Brazil presented the Queen with a matching bracelet and a large brooch to add to the peru. It was clear this was becoming a significant, evolving collection. But like her sapphires, the set was missing a tiara. So, in 1957, the Queen commissioned Gerard to create one. The original version was a relatively delicate diamond and aquamarine bandeau, with three upright stones set in detachable brooches. It was modern and chic, and she wore it to glamorous events like the royal film performance. But some critics were already unimpressed, calling the three prominent stones cyclops eyes. Perhaps the Queen felt it lacked the grandeur of the rest of the set. And here's where the story takes a dramatic turn. In 1968, during a state visit to Brazil, the governor of Sao Paulo presented her with yet another gift, an aquamarine and diamond hair ornament. Now, with even more magnificent stones in her possession, the Queen decided it was time for a major upgrade. By 1971, she decided it was time for a major upgrade. She didn't just add to the tiara, she completely transformed it, seemingly with a desire to create something truly powerful. The changes were audacious. The enormous aquamarine pendant from her original necklace, given to her by Brazil as a coronation gift, was removed and became the new, towering centerpiece of the tiara. Stones from the gifted hair ornament were used to create four new fan-shaped motifs, which were set between the original uprights. And in a fascinating swap, the original central element of the tiara was repurposed to become the new, smaller pendant for the necklace. The result was one of the tallest, most imposing, and architectural diadems in her entire collection. But was it a success? To be blunt, this is probably the most widely criticized of all her jewelry commissions. The transformed tiara and the massive necklace have been called a horror, ungainly, fussy, and a monster. The scale is so immense that it can feel overwhelming. And yet, I have to admit, there's something audaciously regal about it. This isn't a tiara that whispers, it proclaims. It's pure, unapologetic, mid-century glamour. When the Queen wore the full parure, she wasn't aiming for quiet elegance. She was making a statement. You have to remember, these were magnificent stones gifted by a proud nation. By creating such a grand, imposing setting, she was honoring the sheer scale and importance of the gift. It was theatrical, powerful, and a direct reflection of the confident, modern monarch she had become. So what do you think? Was this a case of more is more gone wrong? Or was it a bold, regal statement, a perfect tribute to the magnificent stones and the country that gifted them? After the bold statements and heated debates surrounding the Queen's ruby and aquamarine commissions, we come to a piece that is pure, quiet elegance, a jewel so universally admired that it feels like a peaceful resolution, the Japanese pearl choker. Its story begins during the Queen's first state visit to Japan in 1975. As a gift, the Japanese government presented her with what was described as a set of the finest cultured pearls. A few years later, she commissioned the crown jeweler Gerard to transform them into this beautifully simple four-strand pearl choker, fastened with a gracefully curved central diamond clasp. And here's a lovely personal detail. While not officially confirmed, there is a suggestion that Prince Philip, who had a keen eye for design, may have had some input into its creation. But the story of this choker has a very interesting twist. The first person to wear it in public wasn't the Queen. Instead, this brand-new, personally commissioned piece made its debut on Diana, Princess of Wales, during a state banquet in 1982. Paired with the lover's knot tiara, it looked absolutely stunning on her. The Queen herself began wearing it shortly after, for state visits and formal occasions throughout the 80s and 90s. A generation later, the choker found its way to Catherine, the now Princess of Wales. She wore it for the first time in 2017 to celebrate the Queen and Prince Philip's 70th wedding anniversary. But it's her more recent appearances in the choker that are so deeply poignant. She chose to wear it for Prince Philip's funeral in April 2021, a touching tribute to the man who may have helped design it. And then, in its most symbolic and final act, Catherine wore the Japanese pearl choker, paired with the Queen's Bahrain pearl earrings, to the state funeral of Queen Elizabeth II. These moments really underline what a successful commission this was. The Queen created a piece with a clean, elegant design that has proven truly timeless. It looked beautiful on Diana. It looked stately on the Queen herself. And today, I think it has found its perfect wearer in Catherine, the Princess of Wales. The way it sits on her neck, its proportions, its quiet grace, it just feels perfectly suited to her style. So, after looking at the fiery rubies, the historic sapphires, the bold aquamarines and the elegant pearls, we come back to our original question. Did Queen Elizabeth II really have poor taste in jewelry? To answer that, we have to stop comparing her to her grandmother. Queen Mary was a force of nature, a brilliant innovator who saw jewels as a canvas. Elizabeth was not Mary. And importantly, I don't think she ever tried to be. Her role as she saw it was different. Yes, her personal commissions sparked debate. Critics called her designs clunky, a product of the 70s, an upside-down necklace. These pieces were bold, sometimes unconventional, and they certainly didn't please everyone. But were they failures? I don't think so. Each one had a clear purpose. The Burmese tiara was a powerful, symbolic statement. The sapphire tiara was a practical and traditional solution to complete a treasured family suite. The aquamarine perure was an audacious tribute to a magnificent gift from a nation. I see a monarch building a working collection that was deeply personal to her, filled with gifts of sentiment, diplomatic gestures, and pieces that reflected her own modern era. They tell the story of her reign. But perhaps, to truly understand her taste and her greatest contribution, we shouldn't be looking at the few pieces she created, but at the hundreds of pieces she chose not to change. Remember Queen Mary's relentless reworking? Elizabeth inherited that very same power and authority. It would have been so easy for her to take the grand, historic heirlooms she inherited and adapt them to her own taste, just as her grandmother had done. But she didn't. For me, two of her most significant commissions, the Burmese ruby and the Belgian sapphire tiaras, are genuinely successful. They are stately, symbolic, and have proven their regal power on two generations of queens. The Brazilian aquamarine perure is, I admit, the most challenging. The tiara on its own can feel overwhelming, but when you see it as the crowning piece of the entire magnificent suite, with that enormous necklace and bracelet, it makes a kind of majestic, powerful sense. It's not meant to be subtle. It's meant to be regal. But where I think her taste truly shines is in her smaller, practical decisions. Her thoughtful edits, like shortening a necklace and creating a new bracelet from the leftover pieces, show a wonderfully pragmatic and resourceful mind. And then there are the undeniable triumphs, the Williamson pink diamond brooch and the Japanese pearl choker. Both are masterpieces of timeless elegance that prove she was more than capable of commissioning a perfect jewel. But that's just my opinion, and I would love to hear yours. After hearing their stories, were we all too harsh on the queen's designs? Or do you still find them controversial? Let me know your thoughts in the comments. And if you love diving into the stories behind royal jewels, please consider subscribing to the channel for more.