Why I Left Brilliant Earth
I want to be upfront about something. I'm not writing this to trash Brilliant Earth. They have beautiful designs. Their marketing is excellent. And they introduced a lot of people to the idea that buying an engagement ring could feel more personal than standing at a glass case in a mall.
I'm writing this because I worked there. I held the highest conversion rate in the entire company - 50% over 74 appointments. And what I saw from the inside didn't match what they were telling clients from the outside.
That gap is the reason I started my own business. If you're considering Brilliant Earth right now, or you've already had an experience with them that left you feeling off, I think you deserve to hear what it actually looked like from behind the counter.
Why I Went There in the First Place
I grew up in the jewelry industry. My grandfather opened a jewelry store in Iowa after becoming a watchmaker through the GI Bill after World War II. My dad carried that forward. I spent my childhood on the sales floor at Necker's Jewelers watching my family take care of their neighbors.
So when Brilliant Earth started gaining momentum, I was genuinely curious. They were doing things differently. Appointment-based instead of walk-in retail. Customization instead of just selling what's in the case. A brand built around being ethical and eco-friendly. And they were hiring in Denver, where I wanted to be.
My dad and I were both a little skeptical about some of their claims, but I didn't want to judge from the outside. I wanted to see it for myself. Understand what worked, what didn't, and what the hype was really about.
The appointment model excited me. The idea that you could sit down with a client, have reserved time together, and walk through options that felt curated for them - that was a real step forward from traditional retail. And some of their designs were stunning. I'll give them that all day long.
What I Found When I Got There
The first couple of months were fine. I liked sitting down with clients. I liked the concept. But slowly, the reality started to show.
Appointments were capped at one hour. Hard cap. If you weren't closing the sale within that hour, you needed to wrap it up and move on. And then even that got pushed down to 50 minutes so you could send follow-up emails. If someone needed more time to think, if they wanted to come back, if this was their first stop and they were still exploring - those weren't considered acceptable outcomes.
If you weren't closing appointments, you were failing. That was it.
I was booked back to back to back. Missing lunches. No breathing room between clients. And the leads weren't being vetted at all. I'd get appointments with people who had no intention of buying - sometimes groups of friends just wanting to try on rings for fun. I was still expected to sell to them.
My sales manager had never worked in jewelry before. She came from selling custom closets. The focus was entirely on numbers - how many appointments, what's your close rate, why didn't you close that one. There was no conversation about the client experience, about how to serve people better, about the actual craft of jewelry. It was a corporate sales machine with a really good Instagram account.
The Quality Problem Nobody Talks About
Here's the part that actually made me sick.
Clients were calling in daily about rings falling apart. Stones popping out of bands within weeks of wearing them. Gold turning black - which, by the way, gold doesn't just turn black. That's not a thing that happens from normal wear. That's a manufacturing issue.
I personally fielded at least three repair-related calls a week, and I was in appointments most of the day so I wasn't even the one taking the majority of those calls. Across the office, the volume of complaints was significant. And the response from the company was always the same: blame the client.
How did you wear it? What did you do to it? Our pieces don't have these issues.
Except they did. Constantly.
If a client wanted a repair, they had to ship the ring to San Francisco. The company would quote two weeks. It was usually a month or more. They wouldn't tell you the cost upfront - you had to send it in first. And if you took it to a local jeweler instead? Your warranty was voided.
Think about that. You just got engaged. Your ring is falling apart a month later. And the company that sold it to you is telling you it's your fault, making you ship it across the country, and threatening to void your warranty if you try to get it fixed locally.
That's not an ethical company with an occasional quality issue. That's a system designed to avoid accountability.
The Things I Was Told to Say
I was never told to say anything outright false during a sale. But there were expectations. We were all encouraged to promote how eco-friendly lab diamonds were. I refused. I knew it wasn't true, and I wasn't going to say it.
The bigger issue was the quality claims. Early on, I could say in good conscience that the pieces were well-made. But after months of watching the repair calls stack up, I couldn't anymore. "These pieces are built to last" became a sentence I literally could not bring myself to say.
So I found workarounds. When a client asked about a particular band style, I'd steer them away from the ones I knew had the most problems. When someone was comparing two diamonds, I'd use my actual gemological knowledge to help them pick the better stone, even if it wasn't the one the company was trying to push. I was basically running my own business model inside their system - trying to protect clients while not getting fired for it.
But it reached a point where the gap between what I was supposed to represent and what I actually believed was too wide to bridge.
What They Didn't Want Me to Know
One of the things that bothered me most was how deliberately the company kept information from the sales team. I never learned anything about their manufacturing process. I never knew where the pieces were actually made. I never had access to quality control data. Nobody on the sales floor did.
And I don't think that was an accident. They intentionally hired people without jewelry experience. Young college graduates who needed a sales job and wouldn't know enough to push back. If you don't know what good jewelry looks like, you can't question what you're selling. You just repeat what you're trained to say.
I was the exception because I grew up in it. I could feel when something was off. But I couldn't prove it because I was never given the information to do so.
The Breaking Point
It wasn't one moment. It was gradual. I started getting physically sick. That's what happens to me when I'm living out of alignment with something that matters to me deeply - my body just starts shutting down.
I want to be clear about something: I loved my coworkers. The people on the sales team were good people trying to do a good job in a system that made it really hard to do that. This isn't about them.
But I couldn't sell a product I knew was going to make people unhappy. I couldn't make quality promises I knew weren't true. I couldn't perform in an environment with unrealistic expectations and unvetted leads. And I couldn't keep watching clients get pushed through a system that treated their engagement - one of the most meaningful moments of their lives - like a transaction to be closed in under an hour.
I grew up believing you take care of your neighbors. That everyone who walks into a jewelry store is family. That these moments should be happy, not plagued by repair work and broken promises.
I gave my two weeks and I left.
Here's the thing I didn't expect: part of me didn't fully realize how bad it was until after I was out. When you're inside it every day, you start questioning yourself. Am I being too sensitive? Is this just how the industry works? Maybe I'm the problem.
Then, one by one, my coworkers on the sales team started leaving too. We got together years later to compare notes, and that conversation was eye-opening. We all had the same stories. The same frustrations. The same moments where we felt like something was deeply wrong but couldn't quite name it while we were in it. It's the one job none of us can seem to stop talking about.
That told me everything I needed to know. It wasn't me. It was the system.
What I Took With Me
I didn't leave angry. I left clear.
The appointment-based model was right. Sitting down with a client, having dedicated time together, treating them like a person instead of a walk-in - that was a genuinely better way to do this. Brilliant Earth proved that people wanted it. They just didn't execute it well enough.
The customization instinct was right too. People want something that feels personal. They want agency in the process. They want to feel like the ring they walk away with was designed for them, not pulled from a case.
What was missing was everything underneath. Real quality. Real honesty. Real time with clients. A jeweler who actually has the expertise to back up what they're saying. And a willingness to tell someone the truth even when it means the sale takes longer or doesn't happen at all.
That's what I built A. D'Mae Diamonds to be.
My consultations are 90 minutes, not 50. Nobody gets rushed. There's no sales manager watching a clock. I don't carry inventory, so I have no incentive to push anything. Every stone I select is one I'd personally stand behind, and every design is built from scratch around the person who'll wear it.
If something goes wrong with a piece - which is rare, because I work with manufacturers I trust and I'm involved in quality control at every stage - I fix it. Personally. No shipping it across the country. No blaming the client. No voided warranties.
And I will never, ever tell you a piece is built to last if I don't believe it is.
If You're Considering Brilliant Earth Right Now
I'll be honest with you. If a friend asked me whether they should buy from Brilliant Earth, I'd tell them not to. Not because of the marketing. Not because they're a competitor. Because I watched the product fail people and I watched the company blame those people for it. That's not something I can recommend in good conscience.
Obviously it's your decision, and there are people who've had perfectly fine experiences. But if you're doing your research - and the fact that you're reading this means you probably are - I'd encourage you to spend some time on Reddit. Search "Brilliant Earth" and read the stories. Mine isn't unique. The repair issues, the quality concerns, the customer service runaround - it's a pattern, not an exception.
At minimum, ask questions before you buy. Ask where the piece is manufactured. Ask about the weight of the gold. Ask what happens if something goes wrong in the first six months. Ask if you can take it to a local jeweler for repairs without voiding the warranty. Ask to speak with a GIA Graduate Gemologist about the stone you're considering.
If you can't get clear, direct answers to those questions, that tells you something.
And if you've already bought from Brilliant Earth and something doesn't feel right - maybe the ring isn't what you expected, maybe you're dealing with a repair issue, maybe you just want a second opinion on a stone - I offer free second opinions from a GIA Graduate Gemologist with no strings attached. That's not a sales pitch. It's just something I think more people in this industry should be willing to do.
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