Ancient literature abounds with references to pearls, like the story of Cleopatra's banquet. Legend has it Cleopatra placed a bet with Marc Antony that she could serve the most expensive dinner in history. She wore a pair of magnificent (and pricey) pearl earrings, but served simple dishes. As the meal came to an end, Cleopatra removed one of her earrings, dropped it in a glass of wine (maybe vinegar) and drank it, winning the bet. The story is depicted in many paintings in the world of Western art, one of the most well known being "The Banquet of Cleopatra" by Italian artist Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, c. 1744. There are versions in Dutch Golden Age painting and Flemish Baroque painting, as well as 17th and 18th century "portrait historié," or "historicized portraits," which show wealthy women posing as Cleopatra—like this one by François Lemoyne, c. 1725.

Girl with a _____ Earring . . . One of the most famous pearls in art history is undoubtedly the one featured in Dutch Golden Age painter Johannes Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring, c. 1665. The gem appears to be about the same size as La Peregrina (more on that later) but is it even really a pearl? In 2014, Dutch astrophysicist Vincent Icke raised doubts about the material of the earring. Based on its large size, pear-shape, and reflectiveness, Icke deduced that it looks more like polished tin than pearl. It's also been argued that Vermeer would not have been able to afford or gain access to a pearl as big as the one pictured, so it could potentially be a faux piece made of varnished glass, or perhaps it never actually existed in reality at all . . .

It's easy to get swept up in the splendor of pearls without thinking about where they've come from and how they've gotten here . . . "The lady who cherishes and adorns herself with a necklace of Ceylon pearls would be horrified were she to see and especially to smell the putrid mass from which her lustrous gems are evolved," write Stevenson and Kunz in The Book of the Pearl. Like gold and diamonds, the journey of the pearl has historically involved the exploitation of people and the planet. Before advancing technology altered the industry, and long before the invention of the cultured pearl (more on that below), people braved treacherous conditions—both underwater and on land—in exchange for meager wages. Pictured here, a romantic vision of pearl diving by Italian Renaissance painter Alessandro Allori, with vessels full of pearls and strands woven through up-dos.

Kokichi Mikimoto, the "Pearl King," is the name most closely associated with the development of cultured pearls. Mikimoto was born in Japan's Shima Province in 1858, the eldest son of an udon shop owner. When his father died, Mikimoto, not yet a teenager, took on the responsibility of supporting his family. Watching pearl divers unload their finds at the shore as a child had launched his fascination with pearls. After years of investigation and experimentation, Mikimoto successfully created a culturing process. (Though two men, Tatsuhei Mise and Tokichi Nishikawa, were close behind—and Mikimoto later adopted the Mise/Nishikawa method in his own operations.) A savvy businessman, Mikimoto sent exhibitions of his pearl jewelry to museums across the planet, campaigning for international acceptance of the cultured pearl, stating “My dream is to adorn the necks of all women around the world with pearls.”

There’s a reason why the pearl has been an object of fascination and attraction since it was first discovered all those years ago. Why it appears again and again in artworks, in collections of crown jewels, on red carpets, on the necks and ears of the world’s most stylish men and women. Why it is always included on lists of must-have items—like the Gemological Institute of America’s 2014 article ‘11 Pieces of Jewelry Every Woman Should Own,’ which inspired Liesbet Bussche's series of posters ‘Blueprint of an Entire Jewellery Collection in 11 Pieces,’ (a commentary on the absurdity of such lists) with a strand of pearls clocking in at number five (pictured here). Part of the pearl's power is its timelessness, its must-have-ness, its everywhere-ness. And at the same time, its complex simplicity, its gentle drama, its quiet beauty. Pearls are so many things, for so many different people, all at once. And wearing them feels like wearing a piece of something greater. That is the magic of pearls.