The Item I Wear to Death: My Catbird Stacking Rings

Please bury me with them.

In our biweekly series, editors share "the item they wear to death," whether it be a basic white tee or a super-trendy jumpsuit. Prepare yourself (and your credit card) for some guilt-free shopping.

Hi, my name is Jenny, and I lose things. When I completed graduate school, my parents gave me a diamond necklace, and then promptly took it back to keep in a safe "until you can take care of it." (I turn 30 next year and the verdict is that I'm still not there yet.) I lose wallets, keys, shoes, iPads. One time, I lost my own eyelashes. (A stovetop accident. It's not a good story.) I cannot be trusted with any object I don't affix to my body every single day, so jewelry of the "special occasion" variety is out of the question. After a quarter-century of losing pieces I couldn't keep on my person at all times, I found the solution: My beloved Catbird stacking rings.

The beauty of these rings? They go with everything. You can wear them every day. I wear between three and seven daily. They're delicate, subtle, and built to layer—you can wear six on a single finger and not feel weighed down. You can pair them with statement jewelry and a gown for a wedding, with ripped shorts and string bracelets for a festival, or on their own for the office. They never, ever fade or leave marks on your finger. And you can add to your collection anytime, like with this petite and affordable $44 gold chain ring, or this $238 hanging diamond ring as a treat-yourself birthday gift. (A note: Catbird makes its own jewelry and curates other women-led brands', so some of its pieces are from other brands, like Wwake.)

Jeans, Waist, Orange, Denim, Hand, Abdomen, Yellow, Gesture, Arm, Interaction,

A close-up of my rings.

(Image credit: Kathryn Wirsing)

To illustrate just how much I love Catbird rings, here's a short story: A couple of years ago, I broke up with a boyfriend who had bought me a gorgeous emerald The Tiniest Ring. As I wandered around his apartment, sobbing, tossing dusty serums and tank tops in a trash bag, I decided to leave the ring behind as a symbol—he had gotten it for me during a happier time; it wasn't right to keep it. I couldn't look at it the same way, I decided. "You left your ring," he texted later. "Do you want me to mail it?" No, I told him, melodramatically. I could never take it back.

Flash-forward to a couple of months later, when I was feeling much better about the breakup and significantly sadder about the ring. We decided to go for a walk in Central Park, talk about what went wrong, build some bridges, figure out if we could be friends. "Before you leave," I texted hurriedly. "Could you bring my ring?"

"Yes," he replied, without commenting further, God bless him.

To this day, I still wear that ring. It wasn't ruined for me, after all. Quite the opposite: I love that ring. Not as a symbol of my independence or anything, but, um, just because to look at it.

At any given time I'll have my eye on a new stackable ring. (Right now, it's the Three-Step White Diamond Triangle Ring. Hi, Mom. Christmas is coming, Mom.) Whenever something new to celebrate rolls around—a birthday! a promotion! a bonus!—the first thing I do is march into Catbird and treat myself to the ring I've had my eye on.

Selfie, Photography, Waist, Shoulder, Abdomen, Muscle, Sportswear, Sitting, Brown hair, Long hair,

Here I am, complete with rings, on vacation.

(Image credit: Jenny Hollander)

Human, Dog, Dog breed, Carnivore, Companion dog, Fruit, Long hair, Citrus, Canidae, Produce,

With my late, adorable dog, and my rings.

(Image credit: Jenny Hollander)

Some days, while sliding my rings onto my fingers and smiling dumbly at them, I thank my lucky stars I moved to America (I grew up in England). The sandwiches are better here. I've learned about something called "biscuits," which did not fit my definition of a "biscuit." Also: Catbird.

Ahead, I put together a list of the most gorgeous Catbird gold rings I could find. This was a tough task, obviously, and if you want to thank me by getting me one, my mailing address is—[Editor's note: redacted.]

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clothing, street fashion, photograph, shoulder, waist, yellow, fashion, turquoise, snapshot, pattern,

(Image credit: Kathryn Wirsing)

Clothing, Fashion, Leg, Footwear, Shoulder, Dress, Fashion model, Room, Shoe, Outerwear,

(Image credit: Hana Hong)

Street fashion, Photograph, Clothing, Fashion, Snapshot, Beauty, Denim, Pink, Footwear, Sitting,

(Image credit: Courtesy of Kathryn Wirsing)
Jenny Hollander
Digital Director

Jenny is the Digital Director at Marie Claire. A graduate of Leeds University, and a native of London, she moved to New York in 2012 to attend the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. She was the first intern at Bustle when it launched in 2013, and spent five years building out its news and politics department. In 2018 she joined Marie Claire, where she held the roles of Deputy Digital Editor and Director of Content Strategy before becoming Digital Director. Working closely with Marie Claire's exceptional editorial, audience, commercial, and e-commerce teams, Jenny oversees the brand's digital arm, with an emphasis on driving readership. When she isn't editing or knee-deep in Google Analytics, you can find Jenny writing about television, celebrities, her lifelong hate of umbrellas, or (most likely) her dog, Captain. In her spare time, she also writes fiction: her first novel, the thriller EVERYONE WHO CAN FORGIVE ME IS DEAD, was published with Minotaur Books (UK) and Little, Brown (US) in February 2024 and became a USA Today bestseller. She has also written extensively about developmental coordination disorder, or dyspraxia, which she was diagnosed with when she was nine. She is currently working on her second novel.