The Craziest Jewelry Store in Michigan Is Run by a Dreadlocked Biker

Birmingham — In case you didn’t know, men’s jewelry is becoming a big thing. Mostly, guys start by getting into watches (yes, fine timepieces are a category of jewelry), perhaps a gold chain; next thing you know, they’re rocking a pinky ring like Tony Soprano.

Vintage jewelry is especially sought after, and there’s really only one spot in Southeast Michigan that’s worth stopping by—Legacy Jewelry, the craziest jewelry store you’ve ever seen, filled with curiosities curated by an absolute character of an owner.

Neal Blaz, the owner of Legacy Jewelry, is hard to miss. Dreadlocked, in a black leather biker jacket with big rings on each finger, with a (very friendly) white bulldog following him around. He doesn’t seem like your typical jeweler, or estate-sale guy, or pawn-shop broker, or any of the other types of people you’re likely to encounter hunting for vintage jewelry.

No, he’s something different altogether. A unique individual with a keen aesthetic taste, an obsession with beautiful and curious objects. You get the sense that he got into the jewelry business because he simply loves collecting jewelry, and this gave him a way to build an insane collection to share and enjoy with others.

On my last trip through Detroit, I was on the hunt for old signet rings, gold chains, really anything I could find that was distinctive and vintage. Searching around online, there were plenty of pawn shops, along with new jewelry stores that mostly sell engagement rings and women’s jewelry.

None of them seemed like my style. I wasn’t interested in diamond earrings or Cartier watches. Like most collectors of vintage clothing and jewelry, I wanted to look at items that were older, more distinctive, with a handmade quality and the real patina that only comes with aging well.

Legacy Jewelry was the one place that kept showing up as I looked around, so on my way through Birmingham I stopped off to see what I could find.

Neal buzzed me in through the front door, and we got to talking about the jewelry and rings on display, but the conversation soon got more interesting and far-ranging as he told me about his life and business.

Instead of closing up the shop as usual, he poured us each a shot of Johnny Walker Black from a bar nestled in the corner of the space.

Neal’s been running this shop for 27 years. By his own admission, he started it because he’s a buyer—he loves to collect, and laughed about having seller’s remorse when he lets a nice piece go.

He showed me a ring he’s had for over two decades, a beautiful carnelian stone set in gold, and told me later that he’d hoped I wouldn’t get attached to it. Despite owning it for that long, he almost didn’t want to sell it.

Some other pieces caught my eye, out of an immense slate of categories of jewelry. Some old Victorian-style enameled and porcelain pieces, with portraits of men’s and women’s faces etched into them. Elaborate Mexican silver and turquoise pieces, not quite my style but incredibly wrought and beautiful.

Among the jewelry, a slate of other curious objects. A custom silver motorcycle, chrome and streamlined. Wall paintings, portraits of Neal. A funhouse mirror in the center of the room proved the key to the whole place, which is both a jewelry shop and an ornate sort of carnival attraction filled with dazzling objects.

None of the rings quite fit what I was looking for, but just going there to look and see so many different kinds of vintage jewelry gave me a better sense of my own style, of the sort of things I’d want to collect eventually. Even more than that, talking with Neal was a delightful affirmation of my own magpie tendencies, a recognition that it’s okay to be obsessed with beautiful little objects.

In the days of online shopping, so many of these experiences are missed. People curate their personal styles from Instagram Ads, from algorithmic targeting aimed at getting them to buy. There’s no tactile experience, standing in a store, looking at items, talking to someone knowledgeable.

There’s no serendipitous moment where you discover something new, that you hadn’t considered before, and find out that you really like it. No antithesis to the more formulaic, calculated consumerism endemic to online shopping.

If you’re into jewelry, especially, you’re doing yourself a big disservice if you aren’t scouring for places like Legacy Jewelry to go in person and check out the wares. For big purchases, items that will last a lifetime, you owe it to yourself to make it a real experience.