Chains, Rings & Renaissance Kings

King Henry VIII in Full Regalia, Portrait by Hans Holbein the Younger, c. 1536

The Long, Layered History of Men’s Jewellery

When we think of jewellery today, it’s easy to picture delicate chains, sparkling rings, and luxury watches tucked beneath a cuff. In the mainstream, jewellery is often still seen as something feminine or “optional” for men—a finishing touch rather than a form of self-expression. But this perception is relatively recent. Throughout history, men have worn jewellery not as decoration, but as declaration. A necklace wasn’t just a necklace—it was a marker of strength, a spiritual charm, or a signal of status. Signet rings sealed laws. Earrings marked rites of passage. Chains carried meaning long before they were worn for style alone.

From the bold collars of Egyptian pharaohs to the single drop pearl worn by Charles I, the story of men’s jewellery is as rich, complex, and culturally significant as the materials themselves. And now, in an era where fashion is becoming more personal, more expressive, and less defined by gender, it’s coming back—quietly, confidently, and unapologetically.

Eagle Talons & Divine Gold: The Origins of Adornment

Jewellery predates civilisation. Before there were empires, alphabets or even agriculture, there were adornments—worn by men.

Archaeologists have unearthed eagle talon necklaces in Croatia dating back over 100,000 years. These were likely worn by Neanderthal men as symbols of strength, dominance or clan identity. In North Africa, a shell necklace discovered near the Moroccan coast has been dated to around 82,000 years ago. Primitive, but deeply meaningful.

These early forms of jewellery often served as talismans. Animal bones, teeth and claws were strung together with the belief that the qualities of the animal, such as ferocity, speed or courage, could be transferred to the wearer. Jewellery was worn not to dazzle, but to protect, to empower and to signify spiritual connection.

By the time we reach ancient Egypt, the language of jewellery becomes more sophisticated but no less symbolic. Men of status, including priests and pharaohs, adorned themselves with heavy gold collars, carved stones and intricate amulets. These pieces were believed to offer divine protection in life and safe passage in the afterlife. Jewellery was seen not just as a marker of status but as a bridge between the human and the immortal.

In Mesopotamia, men wore rings and pendants set with lapis lazuli, agate and carnelian to ward off evil and bring fortune in battle. The same was true across the ancient Americas and Asia. Mayan leaders crafted jade nose plugs and anklets as emblems of divinity and authority. Indian kings layered gemstone-studded turbans as visual declarations of cosmic rule.

Jewellery, in these earliest times, was never merely about decoration. It was functional, spiritual and deeply personal. And crucially, it was for men.

Asad Khan, Vizir-i Azam to Emperor Aurangzeb, wearing a gold-embroidered muslin jama and holding a kharita, with a long ceremonial sword at his side.

Signets, Swords and Pearl Earrings

In Ancient Greece, jewellery spoke through symbolism. Gold wreaths and laurel crowns were worn during public rituals and festivals, often to honour gods or signify military and civic accomplishments. The shape and plant used, whether olive, oak or laurel, carried meaning. Adornment was ritualised, reserved for men of standing.

In Rome, jewellery became overtly functional. The signet ring, now considered a staple of classic men’s style, was first used to seal letters, contracts and imperial decrees. Each bore a unique engraving, functioning as a personal stamp. Gold rings, amulets and fibulae, the decorative brooches used to fasten cloaks, were worn by senators, generals and emperors as symbols of office and allegiance. These items were so bound to hierarchy that laws were passed to restrict who could wear certain metals or stones. Roman soldiers wore cuffs and torcs not just as armour but as rewards for bravery. To wear jewellery was to show that you had earned it.

Weapons were not excluded from this visual vocabulary. Across cultures, swords were often as adorned as the men who carried them. Jewelled hilts, engraved pommels and scabbards inlaid with precious metals transformed the sword from a tool of war into a symbol of nobility. In some traditions, a ceremonial sword was the most prestigious piece of jewellery a man could own.

The same was true in Persia, India and Central America. In the Mayan world, jade was revered above gold and worn by high priests and rulers as a divine material. In India, Maharajas and warriors layered pearls, rubies and carved emeralds across the chest and brow. Their jewellery formed part of a larger performance of rule and legacy.

One of the most intriguing recurring details across these cultures is the earring. Worn by kings, soldiers, poets and pirates alike, it was far more than fashion. From the single pearl of Charles I to the gold hoops worn by sailors as insurance for a proper burial, the earring has long held personal significance in men’s adornment.

In this age, jewellery was not simply worn. It was witnessed. And in being witnessed, it carried meaning that extended far beyond the man who wore it.

A pocket watch and chain, an understated emblem of precision, status and etiquette.

From Ornament to Etiquette

As the 18th century gave way to the 19th, jewellery for men began to shift. The grandeur of Renaissance courts and the flamboyance of baroque excess were replaced by a growing preference for discretion. Society was changing, and with it came a new kind of gentleman; measured, modest and defined by restraint.

The Industrial Revolution brought about not only technological change but also a new social order. Middle-class values favoured refinement over spectacle. Jewellery became quieter, more functional, and deeply tied to etiquette. A pocket watch on a chain, a signet ring bearing a family crest, a tie pin set with onyx or pearl, these were acceptable. Anything beyond that was seen as too much.

Even when worn with sentiment, jewellery remained understated. Mourning rings, often inscribed with a loved one’s name or set with black stones, were worn to honour those who had passed. They spoke of memory and propriety rather than ostentation.

The codes of conduct were clear. Jewellery was not to distract. It was there to serve a purpose, to support the suit, to signify marriage or lineage. A well-polished watch chain draped across a waistcoat was a mark of order. A stickpin in the tie hinted at taste, but never flamboyance. These conventions endured well into the 20th century.

Rebellion and Revival

Old Skool Rap & Hip Hop Records

By the mid-20th century, jewellery had been largely reduced to subtle touches. A wedding band. A watch. A tie pin for formal occasions. But beneath the surface, change was brewing.

In the 1960s and 70s, jewellery began to re-emerge, not through tradition, but through rebellion. Artists, musicians and subcultures began to challenge what men could wear and why. The hippie movement embraced beads, pendants and natural materials, often layered over loose clothing and worn as tokens of peace or spiritual openness. Punk introduced safety pins and spikes. Jewellery became a kind of protest.

Then came the rise of hip hop. In the 1980s and 90s, artists began wearing gold chains, medallions and oversized rings as bold statements of success, survival and self-worth. These pieces were not quiet. They were deliberately visible. They redefined jewellery not as a sign of inheritance, but of self-made identity.

At the same time, rock musicians and fashion-forward creatives played with jewellery in new ways. Skull rings, leather cuffs and silver bangles crept into mainstream menswear. Earrings returned. So did necklaces. Jewellery once again became part of the male silhouette, but now it was expressive, defiant and often deeply personal.

By the early 2000s, the conversation around men and jewellery was open again. Not everyone embraced it, and it still carried the weight of being a “statement.” But the lines had been redrawn. What had once been dismissed as excessive was now part of the culture. Men were wearing jewellery not because they had to. They were wearing it because they chose to.

A New Renaissance

After generations of restraint, men are once again turning to jewellery. This time, the approach is quieter. More personal. Less about status and more about story. For some, it is a signet ring passed down through generations. For others, a string of pearls worn with a white t-shirt. A chain tucked beneath a shirt collar. A brooch pinned to a lapel. These choices are no longer statements. They are simply part of how a man dresses, and part of how he feels. Fashion today allows for softness, strength and ambiguity to coexist. As a result, jewellery is no longer confined by gender or tradition. It is worn for meaning, memory and individuality. And increasingly, it is worn without hesitation.

Designers are responding to this shift. Houses like Cartier and Tiffany continue to offer refined classics, while names such as Shaun Leane and Tom Wood bring fresh perspectives. David Yurman, under the direction of his son Evan Yurman, has placed a growing focus on male jewellery that feels effortless and wearable. The pieces range from the minimalist to the ornate, from the symbolic to the sculptural, offering men the freedom to choose what feels most like them.

Jewellery for men is not a trend. It is a return. A return to expression, to heritage, to a long and layered history that predates even the idea of fashion itself. So wear the ring. Clip the brooch. Thread the chain. You are not making a statement. You are continuing one.