Clarity in Carats: Navigating the Murky Waters of French Jewelry Translation

Tweezers holding a cut diamond against a gray background
Photo: Unsplash

The A Propos Logo

By Liza Tripp and Denise Jacobs

Why jewelry translation? For starters, jewelry houses are businesses like any other and require a broad range of services. It should thus not come as a shock that translators in unrelated fields may well come across jewelry-related text at one point or another in documents running the gamut from financial reports to corporate social responsibility plans to lengthy litigation documents. In fact, one of your authors’ first run-ins with the topic was as a legal translator on an intellectual property case involving counterfeit designs. Another recent “legal” assignment centered around diamond mining. Jewelry, much like the broader sector of fashion to which it belongs, has a funny way of popping up in different places.

The expansive reach of the jewelry sector is now more apparent than ever. Indeed, high-end jewelry sales exploded during the pandemic. The financially savvy sought “hard assets” with tangible value as a sound investment in the face of uncertain markets. With travel halted, high-end buyers saw value in timeless, “forever” pieces. In the short-term, jewelry was perfect for waist-up Zoom calls. Online retail platforms, already developing pre-pandemic, further expanded to meet the need during this period, reaching a broad range of buyers who might previously have only purchased such expensive items in person.[i]

Translation facilitates all of these business processes. And knowing the difference between “bijouterie” (most often “fashion jewelry” or “costume jewelry,” “joaillerie” (fine jewelry), and “haute joaillerie” (high jewelry) is essential. What’s the difference between fine jewelry and high jewelry? Depending on the piece, millions of dollars (quite an expensive translation error).

Jewels might seem a frivolity to some, yet the process of producing jewelry requires a high-degree of precision and craftspersonship. The cuts and grading of precious stones are precise and technical, the metalsmithing techniques used to set them complex and nuanced. Especially now, buyers also want to know where materials have been sourced, and companies are trying hard to create transparency in their process. The result for a translator is that you might find yourself translating diamond cuts on one line, metalsmithing terms on another, and mining terms in the next.

Translation of this kind also entails a distinct localization process, and UK and US English are not always equivalent for this purpose. Aside from differing spellings, such as jewelry (US) vs. jewellery (UK), US English uses “carat” for stones and “karat” for metals, while UK English uses “carat” for both metals and stones. Clients seeking product descriptions and press materials will often want separate UK and US versions to best market their products.

Jewelry houses and designers are also incredibly purposeful in developing their concepts and branding. A given collection may be devised to evoke a certain historical era (say Egyptian hieroglyphs, or 18th century Versailles). A house might refer back to its own historical archives, as in Chanel’s “1932” and “Allure Céleste” high jewelry collections, both of which allude to Chanel’s first “Bijoux de Diamants” collection of constellation-themed jewels. Dior’s “Dior à Versailles” collection brought back the concept of Victorian secret jewelry, with its hidden boxes and drawers. Designer Elie Top’s pieces often use blackened silver to lessen the pieces’ “jeweled effect” [ii] and feature a mixture of round and sharp objects to suggest the idea of jewelry worn as armor. Collections might feature symbolic use of animals like the lion (Chanel), serpents (Bulgari), or panthers (Cartier).

The symbolic nature of the pieces themselves is sometimes rendered more difficult to translate by the carefully chosen language used to describe them. Indeed, a designer develops a certain vocabulary for a given collection, with its specific themes and symbols. So as jewelry translators, we are often translating language that is already a translation of those themes and symbols—the serpent bracelet crafted to signify sensuality and metamorphosis for example, or Cartier’s use of the panther as a symbol of power and ferocity.[iii] Since that imagery and symbolism play a large part in how jewelry collections are designed, crafted, and ultimately marketed, it is important to ensure that the target language echoes the tone and register of the source.

Figures of speech, such as synecdoche and metonymy, present further challenges, not least because they can be so easy to miss when translating. For example, the stylish “parure en platine et diamants” below would be best rendered as “a platinum and diamond set,” or “platinum diamond ring and bracelet”—but not as a “platinum and diamond parure.” That is because French mainly uses “parure” synecdochally to merely refer to individual “pieces” or “jewels.”

Illustrated silhouette of a woman's hand with a diamond ring on the ring finger and a diamond bracelet on the wrist

Platinum and diamond set, from Vogue Japan, 2003.[iv]

Conversely, use of the English “parure” ends up evoking something of a different register entirely. That is because “parure” in English does not function synecdochally, but quite specifically and definitively refers to a historical set of up to seven jewels (and always featuring a tiara!).

Similarly, while “un brillant” technically refers to a brilliant-cut diamond, a cut serving to best highlight the sparkle of the stone, it appears most often in French as a metonym when referring to diamond accents on a given piece:

“Quelques grammes de platine orné d’une pincée de brillants continuent de condenser l’un des axes stylistiques majeurs de la griffe.”

“A few grams of platinum embellished with a sprinkling of diamonds continue to embody one of the brand’s major approaches to style.”[v]

Knowing the difference demands a proper analysis of context and register, and ideally a decent amount of background knowledge about the house’s style and pieces, including the materials they most often use.

It may prove tricky, but really understanding the use of metonymy and synecdoche in the source and target languages can often unlock a sentence that sounds “off.” In the case of parure, if we were to incorrectly translate “parure” as “parure” in English, we would add too much information, not to mention shift its historical context. If we fail to identify “brillants” as a metonym and translate them as “brilliant-cut diamonds,” we would again be overtranslating, shifting the focus of a piece from elegant minimalism to showy extravagance.

Nevertheless, such language is easy to mistranslate. This is perhaps because such words “present” as tangible objects, which we are more likely to accept as having a single definition. We think, “it’s an object,” and decide it can only map to one other equal object! Yet in fact, language often functions more figuratively.

Similarly, the use of English in French (and French in English) can further hinder clarity, even when the words themselves seem to have clear, objective equivalents. “Maison” in jewelry texts is most times best rendered as “maison” in English (but sometimes, too, as “house”). The jewels are crafted in these “maisons”—“ateliers” in English. We rarely see the English word “workshops,” and certainly never “factory floor” or “production area.” The selected register can either further reinforce the status and cachet of a given jewelry designer, or if wrong, can completely undermine them.

Sometimes a failure to recast the English can lead the text (and the description of the piece) into a completely bizarre (and unintentional) direction. Consider the term “rock’n’roll” in the French below:

“…sa ligne en circonvolution, inspirée du Colisée romain, s’agrémente aujourd’hui de picots qui rendent les bagues plus rock’n’roll (à partir de 2 700 euros en or rose et céramique).

Copper-colored Bulgari ring
Screenshot from the Bulgari online store taken on November 23, 2022

“The spiral lines, inspired by the Roman Colosseum, were enlivened by studs, giving the rings an edgier look (starting at €2,700 in rose gold and ceramic).”[vi]

The term in French connotes how the studs create dimension and lend “edge” to the style. This is certainly not a piece meant to be paired with a 1950s poodle skirt. While it can be tempting to leave English source words in the translation, if you consider the look of the piece, the design influences, the trends of the collection and maison to which it belongs, more often than not, different English is required to properly translate the source description.

Similarly, consider the French “adorables” in the example below:

“Les fins anneaux en or texturé par un serti poinçon et relevé d’un micro-brillant de 0,03 carat sont adorables (990 euros)…”

A gold and diamond ring
Screenshot from the De Beers online store taken on November 23, 2022

“Fine rings made of textured gold, hand-set using the serti poinçon technique and embellished with a 0.03-carat microdiamond, are lovely ($1,000)…”[vii]

Here, these $1,000 rings are anything but “adorable.” Conversely, using “lovely” allows us to maintain the source text’s sophisticated, refined feel—one commensurate with both the overall design sensibility of the collection and the corresponding expenditure.

It is often what we might call the designer’s idiolect that translators must learn to seek out and respect. For example, consider the French “vanités” in two very different examples below.

“ne s’embarrasse guère des vanités de son temps,” simply translated to “that is unconcerned with the vagaries of trends.”[viii]

Yet elsewhere in the same text, the word serves to evoke a whole concept and jewelry philosophy:

“Prônant un certain humanisme joaillier, Attilio Codognato est l’un des derniers seigneurs de Venise dont les vanités baroques, les serpents tentateurs et les croix byzantines composent un univers précieux auquel les initiés vouent un culte.”

A gold skull embedded with jewels and a golden snake curled around it
Screenshot from the Codognato website taken on November 23, 2022

“Extolling a certain jewelry humanism, Attilio Codognato is one of the last masters of Venice, and his baroque vanitas objects, tempting serpents and Byzantine crosses form a precious world that insiders worship.”[ix]

Here, vanitas is the key word to evoking Codognato’s particular brand of “Memento Mori” jewelry, a genre that features skulls, bones, snakes—morbid references intended to remind the wearer by juxtaposition of the importance of living. Thus, in one example, the word serves to indicate a carefree disregard, while in the other, it is the linchpin around which a jewelry designer’s entire body of work centers.

As translators, our work begins with knowing the differences between the two and reflecting the intention behind the words (as we can best determine it), through our language choices. While the result is naturally words, the best translators in this field often start with a picture. If none is provided, it is essential to find similar examples from the same house or designer.

Auction houses like Sotheby’s and Christies have a broad array of pieces with descriptions and detailed photos. Many of the jewelry houses have detailed, often multilingual websites that you can consult to see how certain pieces and collections are referred to in English. It can also be helpful to look at a designer’s past collections to get a feel for their style influences, as well as recurring looks and techniques used. Fashion magazines like Vogue and Town & Country frequently cover jewelry lines and designers, as does the New York Times. International versions of Vogue are not translations of American Vogue but can often be mined for target language terms.

Lastly, seemingly unlikely sources like Pinterest and Instagram can also be of help, if for no other reason than the plethora of photos. A Google search set to “images only” can provide similar results. It can also be helpful to create and gradually modify an Instagram feed that covers the areas in which you work most frequently. This allows you to build a vocabulary over time and get used to the tone and feel of different houses.

Anything not to be a fashion (or a jewelry) translation victim!

Liza Tripp has been a translator of French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese to English for over 15 years, specializing in the luxury fashion and legal sectors. She most recently translated Fabienne Reybaud’s Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium with Denise Jacobs and Barbara Mellor. (Assouline, publication pending for December 2022.) She holds a BA in French translation from Barnard College, an M.Phil. from the Graduate School and University Center of the City of New York, and a French to English Certificate in Translation from NYU SCPS. She is ATA-certified from French to English. Websites: www.lizatripp.com, www.fashionabletranslation.com

Denise Jacobs is a French to English translator focusing on illustrated books about fashion, jewelry, art, travel, and the French lifestyle. She has an MA and M.Phil. in French literature from Columbia University. She has translated more than 40 published books, in addition to providing translations for several biographies, documentaries, and television news program segments. Websites: www.deniserjacobs.com, www.fashionabletranslation.com

[i] Victoria Gomelsky, “Even in a Pandemic, Fine Jewelry is Selling,” New York Times, December 3, 2020, www.nytimes.com/2020/12/03/fashion/jewelry-rising-sales-pandemic-.html.

[ii] Fabienne Reybaud, Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium, trans. Jacobs, Denise, Barbara Mellor, and Liza Tripp. (New York: Assouline, 2022), 176.

[iii] Anahita Moussavian and Carrie Seim, Cartier’s iconic panther jewelry seduces a new generation, New York Post, May 6, 2022. https://nypost.com/2022/05/06/cartiers-iconic-panther-jewelry-seduces-a-new-generation/.

[iv] Fabienne Reybaud, Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium, trans. Jacobs, Mellor, and Tripp. (New York: Assouline, 2022), 244.

[v] Fabienne Reybaud, Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium, trans. Jacobs, Mellor, and Tripp. (New York: Assouline, 2022), 135.

[vi] Fabienne Reybaud, Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium, trans. Jacobs, Mellor, and Tripp. (New York: Assouline, 2022), 125.

[vii] Fabienne Reybaud, Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium, trans. Jacobs, Mellor, and Tripp. (New York: Assouline, 2022), 165.

[viii] Fabienne Reybaud, Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium, trans. Jacobs, Mellor, and Tripp. (New York: Assouline, 2022), 135.

[ix] Fabienne Reybaud, Jewelry Guide: The Ultimate Compendium, trans. Jacobs, Mellor, and Tripp. (New York: Assouline, 2022), 148.

Pleats, Pockets and Problems: the Deceptive Ease of Fashion Translation

by Liza Tripp and Denise Jacobs

After a typical translator’s day working on dense annual reports and ponderous litigation files, fashion translation seems fun enough. What better diversion than immersing yourself in skirts and dresses?

Yet as with all well-executed translation, challenges abound. Sewing terms are technical, precise, and sometimes mysterious. There are endless variations of pleats, pockets, darts, seams, necklines, sleeves, hooks, buttonholes, and lapels. Fabric finishes also vary widely depending on textile manufacturers and whether the items are intended for haute couture or the mass market. Fashion is visual, yet translators are often faced with descriptions of pieces that have no accompanying images.

Haute couture and visionary designers often reference historical clothing styles and techniques in their creations. Max Mara even maintains a private historical fashion archive, which serves as a resource for its designers: “Fashion is a culture. Designers don’t create alone,” noted the brand’s creative designer.[i] Sometimes designs make literal references to historical items, in which case translations are best served doing the same. Indeed “les paniers” on a Junya Watanabe dress with zippered duffels at either hip are a fairly literal interpretation of the historical “panniers.”

Watanabe dress with panniers.
Photo Credit: 1stdibs
Historical dress with panniers. Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

In other cases, historical fashions serve to spur the designer’s creativity in developing entirely new and avant-garde concepts. Consider Margiela’s use of “blouse blanche,” not a blouse at all, but a white lab coat, pointing to the highly skilled French “petites mains” who worked in haute couture ateliers.

White lab coats at Margiela.
Photo credit: Instagram

The fashion house uses the historical term and the piece itself as a jumping off point for a multitude of items in its collections. These designs have included everything from all white clothing (some of them blouses!) to head-to-toe white down comforters worn as coats, right down to the plain white labels inserted in all of its pieces. Indeed, in Margiela’s case, the historical “blouse blanche” has become a way of branding the house itself—simple, exceedingly modern, but deeply connected to the past.

White “duvet” coat at Margiela.
Photo credit: Instagram

To complicate matters further, some terms are “one-offs,” where sometimes a more literal translation is warranted. Pierre Cardin once devised a pair of pantalons à roulettes, or roller pants, with a leg finishing in a roller-skate wheel shape. Recently, there was a description for an “inside-out poodle jacquard” in a review of John Galliano’s latest collection for Maison Margiela, which turned out to be exactly as described.

Pierre Cardin’s “roller pants”
© 1971. Image used with the permission of Jean-Pascal Hesse.
The very literal “inside-out poodle jacquard.”
Photo credit: Instagram

While having a photograph of the garment or accessory is, of course, the ultimate resource, translators are often left in the dark. Technical and fashion dictionaries can be helpful starting points. From there, we have turned to designers’ websites, online videos of fashion shows (time consuming, but elucidating), reliable fashion reviews (Vogue, WWD, New York Times, BoF), blogs and sewing websites found online, as well as museum and auction house catalogues. Reaching out to fashion houses or museums is also an option, time permitting. We were delighted when a museum in Paris even sent us photographs of the back of a garment we simply could not envision for a book translation.

As always, it is essential to conduct online research meticulously, with context, linguistic register, and final audience in mind. When in doubt, we recommend relying heavily on description, so your reader can see the item in question in their mind’s eye. Sometimes leaving a term in French can be an option, a way of naming the object where you otherwise could not. Obviously, this technique should be used judiciously and thoughtfully.

Yet, perhaps due to French’s longstanding role as the lingua franca of fashion, use of French in English is sometimes de rigueur. Indeed, when translating historical books on classic couture or biographies of legendary houses or couturiers, publishers and editors even mandate that certain words should be kept in French. haute couture, atelier, petites mains, flou and tailleur are a few examples.

Nevertheless, as can be expected in fashion, change is always in the air. English suddenly abounds in French, and very much so in fashion reporting. Sometimes the terms are simply borrowed (la fashion week, les shows, le vintage, le it bag) but words cannot always be handily back-translated into English. The word “oversize” in French, for example, often equates not to our English-language conception of oversize, but to descriptions like “roomy,” “relaxed,” or “slouchy.” Perhaps translating fashion texts is so tricky because fashion itself is a language. Miuccia Prada herself has said, “What you wear is how you present yourself to the world, especially today, when human contacts are so quick. Fashion is instant language.”[ii] As translators, we present texts that can be read and absorbed in a moment. Yet how we present that language should be a detailed process using mixed research sources and a bevy of translation techniques and styles.


[i] Olsen, Kerry. “In Max Mara’s Archive, Decades of Italian History.” New York Times, September 19, 2018, link.

[ii] Galloni, Alessandra. “Interview: Fashion is how you Present Yourself to the World.” Wall Street Journal. Updated January 18, 2007, link.


Liza Tripp has been a translator of French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese into English for over 15 years. Much of her French and Italian work is in the luxury fashion sector. She most recently translated Martin Margiela: 1989–2009 with Denise Jacobs, which was published by Rizzoli in conjunction with a show at the Palais Galliera in Paris. She holds a BA in French translation from Barnard College, an M.Phil. from the Graduate School and University Center of the City of New York, and a French to English Certificate in Translation from NYU SCPS.
Website: www.lizatripp.com

Denise Jacobs is a French to English translator focusing on illustrated books about fashion, jewelry, art, travel, and the French lifestyle. She has an MA and M.Phil. in French literature from Columbia University. In addition to publishing more than 40 books, she has also translated several biographies, documentaries, and television news program segments. Website: www.deniserjacobs.com