November
It was a regular November day when he burst into our atelier in Tanjong Pagar like a man on a mission. A mission, he explained, that could make or break his entire Christmas holiday.
“I’m taking my girlfriend to Japan for Christmas, and I want to propose to her. Can you make an engagement ring in time?”
Now, our rings are made to order, and tight deadlines make us sweat. But his determination? That was contagious.
“We can try,” I said, leading him to a table.
He wasted no time.
“This ring is so her,” he declared, holding up our platinum Lily ring.
Next up: choosing a diamond. This part required some finesse. I presented a curated selection, explaining the 4Cs—cut, color, clarity, and carat. As we examined the subtle differences between diamonds, I asked if he could tell D color from F color.
“Definitely,” he said, nodding like a gemologist.
“What about D versus E?”
“Uh… nope.”
Still, he picked the D color. “Even if I can’t see the difference, I’ll know I chose the best for her.”
And then came the tricky part: the ring size.
“Do you know her ring size?” I asked.
“Well, her ring fits my pinky…”
I stifled a laugh. “Yeah, that’s not gonna help. Here, take this ring size gauge. You can measure her finger while she’s asleep.”
He looked dubious but determined. “Okay, I’ll try.”
Two Days Later
He was back. He didn’t look defeated, but he wasn’t victorious either.
“I couldn’t do it,” he admitted.
“Oh no.”
“But I brought her ring!” He held up a piece of her jewelry, triumphant. Then his face fell. “But we’ve got another problem. The Lily ring I picked? It looks a lot like this ring.”
Back to square one.
After some brainstorming, he chose “Arrow”, one that was unique and perfect. The catch? We’d have to deliver the ring to him in Tokyo because there was no time to ship it to Singapore before his flight. Talk about high-stakes logistics.
As we finalized details, he showed me his travel itinerary and asked for advice on where to pop the question.
“Karuizawa,” I said without hesitation. “Snowy, romantic, and great change of scenes from hot and humid Singapore.”
“Karuizawa it is,” he nodded, racing back to work before his lunch break vanished.
Christmas Eve in Tokyo
We coordinated the ring handoff with military precision, texting updates like spies on a covert mission:
“Landing in Narita…”
“Having dinner in Ueno…”
“Heading to Ginza…”
“12th floor at Uniqlo…”
"ETA 20 minutes..."
Finally, we met on the first floor of Uniqlo Ginza. I handed him the box like it was a priceless artifact from a heist movie. He gave me a quick nod of thanks and disappeared back upstairs, where his unsuspecting girlfriend waited.
Did she say yes?
Yes.
Sometimes, impossible missions are the most rewarding ones of all.
