by David Zenian
What is the secret in the jewelry business that has attracted hundreds of Armenians from all walks of life to one of the world's most artistic professions? There is no clear answer, especially when many jewelers do not hide the fact that they were once electricians, school teachers, butchers, or hair dressers. One or two doctors have even tried their hand. "This is one line of work where a background as salesman is an adequate tool to get started . . . sometimes regardless of what you were selling before," says one of the old-timers in the Los Angeles Jewelry Mart.
Spread between various high rise buildings on Hill between 6th and 7th Streets in downtown Los Angeles, Armenians manufacture and trade in gold, silver and precious stones in a somewhat folkloric setting not too alien from the ways of the "old country." According to conservative estimates, 30 percent of all downtown Los Angeles jewelers are Armenians. In one 16-story building, 70 of the 240 jewelers are Armenians. The concentration is just as evident in the ground floor booths.
The influx began in 1973. During the last ten years Armenians have expanded the industry over three square blocks. Armenians own about twelve buildings including the famous old Bullock's department store, now renovated into a jewelry mart. Their real estate holdings are estimated at $500,000,000.
Some of the dealers buy and sell one and a half tons or $12,000,0000 worth of gold a year. It is a billion dollar industry for 6000 Armenian jewelry business owners and employees. One jeweler commented, "It's a nice business to be in. People, especially women, are so happy when they purchase a beautiful pin or necklace. Of course, sometimes it can be embarrassing when they hug and kiss you in their excitement. It doesn't sit too well with my wife who works in the store with me."
The Armenian presence is quite apparent in many ways. A telephone call to the corner Armenian-owned deli is enough to put together a mezze table for lunch, with soujouk, basterma, and a variety of kebabs, in the back rooms of many chic jewelry stores. Another call to Armenag's coffee shop produces Armenian coffee, just like "the good old days of Beirut." "We're a self-contained unit. I buy most of my stuff from Armenian manufacturers and sell to Armenian retailers, including one who was a basketball coach in Beirut," says Sarkis, an old-timer who declined to reveal his full name. "We barely improve our English, talking to each other all day long."
Recounting his own "induction into the jewelry business," Sarkis said the decision was a calculated risk. "I came from Lebanon with very little capital and as a salesman in my native country I had no specific professional training, with no connections and I had to play it safe. Buying gold jewelry was the best investment, which, even if I was unable to sell on the retail market, I could still salvage its capital cost - i.e. actual gold value. I thought this was a good option and if you look around you, you see hundreds of people like me."
"When I came here in 1976, there was only one jeweler's building. There was a handful of Armenians and the rest were Jewish. Today the market is dominated by Armenians, Iranians and Asians but the Jews still maintain their control over the diamond market," he added during a tour of the area. "Between 1976 and 1980, many of the Armenians who came from Beirut, Istanbul and Armenia entered the jewelry business, regardless of their professional background. Many of the booths were being practically given away,"
Over the years, some of the early comers dropped out. Others made enough money to move into the "manufacturing" side of the business which they now almost control. For every Armenian jeweler who dropped out of the market, a dozen came in to fill their shoes, including craftsmen from Armenia. Now most of the production work is done by Armenian immigrants. "They acquire the skills very quickly and after making a few dollars in another profession, they come here to try and make it big. Some succeed, some don't," reflected an artisan from Armenia.
All dealings between Armenian jewelers are on a first name basis. "Just take a walk along the corridors, and I am sure you will recognize some of the faces. It is impossible to move from one mall to another without stopping to chat with at least a dozen people along the way," a childhood friend told me.
He was right. Everybody seemed to know everybody else. Maybe it was this camaraderie and close-knit society that saved the reputation of the Armenian jewelers a few years ago when a dozen or so were arrested on money laundering charges. "People tried to stereotype the Armenians but failed. Two Armenian brothers went to jail and the reputation of hundreds of Armenian jewelers on Hill Street was damaged. It was bad PR, and business declined for a while. But we've survived. It's almost forgotten now."
