Rings are a fantastic conversation starter. I’ll normally wear at least two on my hands every day, and you’d be surprised at how often people ask me about them. In my experience, if you have a passion for something and you are sharing it with others, people tend to be very open and receive the energy well. For me, so much of my life is connected to rings—and while I have thousands of physical pieces, it is what they represent emotionally, and the stories behind them, that I really covet.
Collecting men’s rings is a passion of mine, but it is a passion that I inherited from my father, Yves Gastou. He was one of the most notable collectors in the world—so much so that part of his collection is currently being exhibited in Dubai at L’École Middle East, School of Jewelry Arts. When I was younger my father owned a gallery in France. I often used to go to auctions with him to seek out things for the gallery—artworks, furniture,
things like that—but he would always have one eye open looking for men’s rings. I would see how passionate he was about it, and witness all the research and time he would dedicate to it.
Over time I slowly started to get a sense of why one ring was more interesting than another, and eventually we would try to outdo each other by finding better rings until it became a sort of happy competition between us. So, essentially because of him, when I started collecting, I was coming in from a much more advanced level than he had when he started, as I had already seen so many exceptional pieces and had learned from the best.
I believe in the power of tactility. When you put a ring on your finger, there is an unwritten understanding that you are going to wear it for a long time. It creates a different kind of bond than a necklace or a bracelet, you must be comfortable with it—the ring has to accept you, and you have to accept it.
There is magic in rings. There was a period when I was buying a lot of them. I’m talking about two, three or four rings a day—and I would just walk around with them in my pockets. Sometimes I would go into a bar and start up conversation with random people, and then occasionally I would give someone I just met one of the rings just to see what the reaction was.
I used to get some amazing reactions, there were some people who would even start crying. When you wear a ring that someone gave you, it can create a strong emotional bond—it’s very different to, say, a pair of shoes. Years later I still am in touch with some of those people via email, even though we may have only met randomly one night years ago.
Men have been wearing rings on their fingers for thousands of years, whether as a representation of wealth, status, personal expression, cultural identity or artistic innovation. It’s funny, the majority of men today don’t wear rings. I see wearing rings as a bit like a grade in Judo. First you start with one, then you get more confident and you add another, and then you swap over to the other hand and add a third or fourth.
I think any collector will agree that when you start out, there is a bit of embarrassment or shyness about your ‘collection’, but it is something that fundamentally grows over time. Not only in quantity, but in quality, knowledge, and passion.
When I add a piece to my collection, there has to be an energy to it. For me the value of the
pieces isn’t monetary, it is based on the energy and the story behind it. If you only collect the rarest or most valuable pieces, then you are missing out on a huge part of life and culture. My father always taught me that the most valuable pieces only mean something if you put them in the context of everything else. A solid gold ring once worn by a medieval king is as interesting to me as one that Keith Richards may have thrown into a crowd during a Rolling Stones gig. Collections are about passion, not money.
You have to have a sense of curiosity. I have all kinds of rings, from biker gangs
to ancient Egyptian relics, to a ring that was worn by Pope Pius VI—well, actually, the ring
was from before he was made Pope, because when you are elected as Pope you have to return your bishops rings and are given new rings that denote your status. Unfortunately, neither me nor my father have a Pope’s ring, because they are buried with the body when they die.
The last piece I bought was from a famous auction place in Paris that showcases thousands
of items every day. I hadn’t planned to walk past it that day, but when I did, I had the feeling that something was calling me. I looked into the window and saw a beautiful ring, and I felt like she was made for me to find. When you see a beautiful ring, you touch it, and it becomes a part of you.
It’s a huge honour to be exhibiting my father’s collection of Men’s Rings in at L’École Middle East in Dubai. It tells the story of his life’s passion that he started, and one that we finished together. It gives me great pleasure to help others appreciate his work. As for me, my collection of rings is not ready to share publicly. The time will come, but not yet, for now it remains personal.
‘Men’s Rings, Yves Gastou Collection’ exhibition, at L’ÉCOLE Middle East, School of Jewelry Arts, Dubai Design District (d3). Until April 26, 2025. To visit register here