It takes marine pearls about two years to develop in their shells. It took Bonnie Fraker about two seconds to declare why she wouldn’t wear them around her neck. “A pearl necklace makes me look dated,” said the retired Manhattan teacher, 73. “Perhaps there’s such a thing as ‘too classic.’”

Still, pearls persist. Ask Leigh Batnick Plessner, chief creative officer at Catbird, the Brooklyn fine-jewellery label that counts Meghan Markle and Taylor Swift as fans. “Pearl necklaces are still in demand,” she said. “But the appetite has really changed from traditional necklaces to more surprising takes.”

The traditional strand has long signified opulence and power. Julius Caesar commanded that only aristocrats could wear the gem during his reign. Figures as diverse as Marie Antoinette and the Yongzheng Emperor of the Qing Dynasty coveted the strands. In the 20th century, stateswomen like Queen Elizabeth II and Mamie Eisenhower wore them to official events. By the 1980s, punks paired pearls with their spiked collars to subvert yuppie style. Still, pearls were most associated with formidable women like Margaret Thatcher and Barbara Bush, along with the preppy clique in the 1988 film “Heathers.”

Instead of stringing the old-school pearl necklace along, many of today’s brands make pearl chokers, sometimes with smaller “baby” pearls that sit at mid-neck instead of resting on clavicles. Dior’s Couture runway in Paris featured pearl chokers; California designer Sophie Buhai makes hers with a black satin-cotton cord and single central pearl. The style “looks more modern,” said June Ambrose, a creative director and costume designer for stars like Mary J. Blige and Ciara. Ambrose wears pearls from both thrift stores and Valentino.

Also popular: freshwater pearls, uniquely shaped instead of uniformly round. Once considered the messy stepsister of marine pearls, the gems look like smeared blobs of ivory glitter—in other words, odd enough for the fashion world to swoon. “I like the individualism of them,” said Simone Rocha, the designer whose recent couture line for Jean Paul Gaultier included gowns that subbed in strands of iridescent baroque pearls for typical satin straps. Off the runway, some women flaunt them as a way to look sophisticated but not uptight. “They feel a bit more rebellious,” noted Taffy Msipa, 28, an interior creative director in Bath, U.K., who wears her Monica Vinader freshwater pearl necklace with slouchy suits. “I like how they let me look elegant, but elegant in my way.”

There’s also the “half-and-half,” an industry term for a necklace that’s half pearls and half something else. On the recent Cannes red carpet, actress Michelle Yeoh, 69, wore Mikimoto’s version with cultured pearls on one side and a spray of diamonds, inlaid with white gold, on the other.

After Yeoh’s appearance, Instagram fans lauded the look with comments like “Not your grandmama’s pearls!” and “weird but amazing,” while searches for “half and half necklace” spiked 30% on Google Trends. A gold-and-pearl version of the style popped up in the “Mean Girls” movie remake, while pop star Dua Lipa has sported Vivienne Westwood’s pearl-and-rhinestone collar.

Don’t want to part with your classic strand of marine pearls? Dallas-based therapist Katie-Beth Crumrine, 23, had her vintage double-loop necklace shortened to a collar-length one. She wears it with linen Madewell tops and jeans. “It helps elevate my look,” she said. “But isn’t snobby.” Mixing pearls with casual pieces like ceramic beads can also keep them current. Meanwhile, the creative director Ambrose tells famous clientele to pair pearls with minimal makeup, because “a pearl necklace and a bare face is chic; a pearl necklace, a full face of makeup and a red lip is really trying.”

Some modern pearl looks eschew necks altogether. See the pearl-strung friendship bracelets by Vinader, and Rocha’s irregular pearl earrings. (“I like it when they’re kind of odd and not matching,” she said.) According to jewellery designer Plessner, varied interpretations have become the point. “Pearls are kind of like a Rorschach test for your fashion personality,” she explained. “You want to be weird or ethereal or powerful? There’s a pearl look for that.”

Are Pearls Too Old-Fashioned? We Asked NYC Women.

“They’re more classy than old-fashioned. They remind me of Jackie O. But would I wear them right now? No. Maybe when I’m older.” —Brittany Bower, 29, Hospital Nurse

“No! I wear my pearls a lot, actually. I really like the weight of how they feel on my neck.” —Tara Rubin, 69, Casting Director

“Yes, but in a nice way. They remind me of my great grandmother, Nita. She used to wear them. She used to let me play with them, which I loved. I don’t think I’d wear them now, though.”  —Sydney Willard, 29, Barista

“Nothing’s old-fashioned in 2024! I would wear pearls today, but, like, with a sweatshirt.” —Asia Harris, 24, Student

“I used to think they were kind of old-fashioned, like in ‘The Crown’, and then I started wearing them to the gym with a black workout tank. I have never felt more like a cool New York girl.”  —Tara Strahl, 42, Library Consultant

In San Jose, Calif., a preserved Chihuahua skeleton stands on a bed of fur atop an antique library card catalog. A photo of the dog, Shirley, peers down on the living-room display.

Mari Moore, a 45-year-old paralegal, paid around $6,500 to preserve her dog’s bones, a process called bone articulation, after the rescue dog, who was at least 10 years old, died in 2020.

With a new appreciation for the brevity of life, she and her husband, Kirk Moore, 45, started therapy to improve their relationship after Shirley died.

“When Shirley passed, our whole lives changed. We really realised that we want to appreciate each other,” she said. Now, they visit the shrine almost daily, especially during fights and difficult days. “It reminds me of real, pure, unconditional love, and it makes me want to be better.”

Mourning owners are memorialising their beloved cats and dogs at a rate not seen in over a century, when Victorian-era pet owners frequently taxidermied deceased companions, said the Moores’ taxidermist, Lauren Kane of Precious Creature Taxidermy in Redlands, Calif.

Lifelike taxidermy and bone articulation can cost thousands of dollars. But urns, some made of bronze or inlaid with ornate mother-of-pearl designs, are a more common and accessible choice for people who want to honour their pets and integrate a memorial into the design of their home, said Tim Murphy, executive director and chief executive of the Casket & Funeral Supply Association of America. The trade organisation supports professionals in funeral services for humans and, increasingly, for pets, he said.

Artist commissions

In 2023, about 33% of funeral homes offered pet-care services, up from 26% in 2021, according to the National Funeral Directors Association, a professional organisation for funeral-services professionals in Brookfield, Wis.

Demand has heightened since the pandemic, when bonds grew stronger as people spent more time at home with their pets, said Donna Shugart-Bethune, executive director of the International Association of Pet Cemeteries and Crematories.

While pet urns usually cost $50 to several hundred dollars, customisation can push the expense into the thousands, said Murphy. Sentimental pet owners frequently commission artists to make custom sculptures of bronze, papier-mâché, wood or pottery as vessels for pet ashes, said Coleen Ellis, the executive director of the International Association for Animal Hospice and Palliative Care.

“There is not too much of a limit on what people are willing to spend on their pets. I actually find that people are willing to spend more money on their pets than on their human loved ones,” said Nikki Nordeen of Terrybear, a St. Paul, Minn.-based supplier of memorial items to the funeral industry and pet-loss professionals.

While pet urns are usually smaller and less expensive than those designed for humans, Nordeen said some people are choosing personalised, high-end urns that rival or even exceed the cost of traditional human urns, she said. Without customisation, Terrybear’s pet urns retail for about $50 to $400 compared with an average $120 to $800 for traditional urns, said Nordeen.

Bucket and Mr. Pickles

In Manhattan, Ill., a $250 square wooden urn is disguised as a shadow box, showcasing three photos of a cocker spaniel mix named Bucket, her collar and a tag that identified her as blind.

Kate Becker, a 36-year-old critical care nurse practitioner, and her husband, veterinarian Scott Becker, adopted two dogs—Bucket and Mr. Pickles—in 2014. Four years later, she said they built a house with a light-filled guest bedroom where Scott played guitar to decompress after difficult days.

But Kate’s life changed when her husband died of cardiac arrest at age 40 in 2020, and Bucket went into kidney failure and had to be put down a year later.

“Scott and I did not have any children, so my dogs 100% got me through,” she said. “Losing Bucket—that was really hard, especially so soon after Scott passed.”

Kate placed Scott’s urn, a box with a sea-like glass exterior, with Bucket’s urn on a dresser in the guest bedroom, with candles and her late husband’s ball cap.

“I’m grateful that Bucket is still part of my home,” said Kate, who said she limits the special items displayed to maintain an uplifting space for meditations, with Mr. Pickles by her side.

Often, mourning pet owners drape a collar over the urn’s neck and arrange the pet’s favourite toys around it. Designers recommend creating photo walls and using shadow boxes to display fur, whiskers, toys and collars. Plants can be placed near urns to represent the continuation of life in a home after a pet’s death, said interior designer Jeannelly Hartsfield of Ivyleaf Interior in Powder Springs, Ga., who has helped clients create memorial displays in their homes.

Ruby-Rue

The cedar wood urn of Ruby, an Australian shepherd-labrador, sits on a table next to Lisa Daoust’s living room fireplace, surrounded by a favourite toy squirrel and dried flowers.

In the corner where Ruby liked to nap, Daoust, a 59-year-old retired teacher in Murietta, Calif., hung a roughly $270 photo designed by EverAfter. The Florida-based company says it shines light through crystals created with a pet’s ashes to generate unique images.

The urn, with a “Ruby-Rue” nickname nameplate by Furever Loved in Lake Elsinore, Calif., was included with the cremation, which cost about $200, she said. Depending on a pet’s size and services included, owners usually pay several hundred dollars for cremation, a fraction of the cost of human cremation.

Daoust rescued Ruby in 2002, two years before she married her husband, retired Department of Defense firefighter Jason Daoust, 51. Ruby saw Daoust through the death of her brother in January 2022 before dying in March 2022, several months before Daoust’s mother-in-law passed away. The combined grief was devastating. But finding ways to honour loved ones has helped her process her loss, she said, adding that she also has memorials for her mother-in-law and brother in her home.

“Our relationships with family and friends are so much deeper now. We don’t criticise, and we don’t judge so easily. Because in a snap, life could be gone,” said Daoust.

People frequently place pet urns in living rooms on shelves or fireplace mantels, where owners can process their pet’s passing by talking about their companion with visitors. Or, owners sometimes place them in the pet’s favourite place to spend time, whether that be in a garden or in a sun puddle in a home office, said Ellis.

Though interior designers and Feng Shui practitioners generally advise that people keep bedrooms a place to focus on rest, some keep ashes in their bedrooms when their loss is fresh, said Laura Cerrano, founder of Feng Shui Manhattan, a New York City-based consulting firm.

Vivianne Villanueva Dhupa, the former owner of a pet crematory and a pet hospice facility in the San Diego area, says she encourages people to place a memento where they would expect to see their pet.

“It helps with the grieving to have something to focus on, because it leaves such a void, physically and emotionally,” she said.

Dhupa has three urns in her own living room. The shelves hold a roughly $125 black ceramic urn for her black cat who died several years ago and a $395 poodle-shaped ceramic urn figurine for a poodle-mix dog who died in September. On a coffee table is a $260 white heart-shaped urn with a decorative gold heart for a Brussels griffon who died in December. She also has several stones etched with her pets’ names in the garden where her dogs liked to play, she said.

Lifelike sculptures

One highly customised urn sits on top of a piano in a Houston living room. The ceramic, 3D-printed sculpture of a dog in a claw-footed tub peers up with timid eyes amid family photos and snapshots of the collie named Darby.

Lauren Shafer, a 40-year-old marketing manager at Lone Star College-Houston North, and her husband James Shafer, a 48-year-old bass player, rescued Darby around 2010. Darby, a quiet dog that tended toward anxiety, jumped into the empty bathtub for safety whenever uncertainty came his way. When Darby died in 2015, they spent about $1,200 for the custom 3D-printed urn by Foreverence, a custom urn design and manufacturing business in the Minneapolis area.

“Splurging on a custom-designed urn is, I’m sure, not something that everybody can do, but it sure helped me to get through it a little bit easier,” said Lauren.

Urn makers add pets’ names, dates, nicknames, poems and other sentiments, which usually costs about $25 depending on the design, said Chris Christian, co-owner of Christian-Sells Funeral Home in Rogersville, Tenn. Unique custom artwork, such as pet-shaped sculptures created by hand or 3D-printed, can cost several thousand dollars.

“People want an urn or memorial item that is representative of how they viewed their pet,” said Nordeen. For her two fluffy, white Samoyeds, she chose urns with a white shimmery finish and paw prints around the sides. It’s a design that typically costs around $180 apiece, plus an additional $120 to be etched with their names, nicknames and the years they were born and died, she said.

Saying goodbye

For Mari Moore, the process is beginning all over again: In January 2024, her other Chihuahua, Laverne, died. But Mari said that this time she is hopeful about her future as an “empty-nester” as she takes on new challenges and carves out new parts of her identity beyond being a “pet mom.” She celebrated Laverne’s life with about 100 friends by hosting a fundraiser with taco and churro trucks for the City of San José Animal Care & Services centre.

The skeleton tribute seemed an appropriate way to remember Shirley because the rescue dog with numerous health issues lost much of her hair by the end of her life, said Mari. But Laverne will be fully taxidermied, positioned as if she is sleeping on a bed. The process will take about two years and will cost over $10,000, but Mari said that for her, it’s worth it to honour her pets.

“Everybody who comes over says, ‘Wow. This is beautiful,’” she said. “I really feel like we did a good job honouring them.”

Nine-hundred eighty-three people applied online for a job posted recently by tech recruiter Rob Tansey. The candidate who got the offer wasn’t one of them.

Tansey, who scouts potential hires for aviation-software maker Veryon, received a half dozen referrals from a woman he knew from past job searches. One of those six quickly became the front-runner. That’s often how Tansey operates: He estimates that just 40% of successful applicants come in cold through his company’s job portal.

“There’s an idealist in me that wants to look at all the résumés,” he says. “The reality is you just can’t.”

Who-you-know networking is back. As the number of job applicants has swelled in recent years, the key to landing a new position often turns on a personal connection that can pluck your résumé out of online obscurity and ensure it’s seen by a real person.

Behind the resurgence: frustration with the digital slog that bogs down U.S. hiring. Many hiring managers and applicants agree that the ease with which job hunters can respond to help-wanted postings has broken the online-application process by creating high volumes of candidates that hiring managers can’t hope to parse through. Meanwhile, applicants say automatic screening tools are shutting them out of opportunities.

Reverting to referrals threatens to undermine corporate diversity efforts, which were supposed to be aided by online applications. Software promised to democratise hiring by reducing human biases, but wider talent pipelines have overwhelmed some employers to the point where they’re reaching for what’s worked in the past.

To promote the use of connections, some employers, like software giant Dassault Systemes , have increased cash rewards for employees whose recommendations lead to hires. Others, including the University of Miami and its health system with 20,000 total employees, have launched new referral-bonus programs. Corporate hiring software can allow companies to identify referred candidates first, boosting those applicants over the competition.

Whether recommendations come from in-house or outside the company, the advantages are significant, according to data compiled by the hiring-software company Greenhouse. For roles that were posted on Greenhouse job boards and filled in the first quarter of this year, applicants with referrals had a 50% chance of advancing past an initial résumé review, compared with 12% odds for other external candidates.

Thirty percent of eventual hires had referrals, even though people with referrals represented just 5% of the applicant pool.

“Candidates are so desperate to get noticed, and they’re asking, ‘What’s the cheat code? What’s the way to get through the filters?’” says Jon Stross, Greenhouse’s co-founder. “Get referred. It really increases your chances of getting through the first filter.”

AI arms race leads to frustration

The renewed reliance on networking comes as applicants and hiring managers are struggling to navigate the software that now dominates recruiting.

Companies are swamped by applicants in part because many job seekers are newly relying on ChatGPT and automated bots to fire off large volumes of résumés, or using other shortcuts like LinkedIn’s “easy apply” button.

Some human-resources professionals lament that cover letters sound eerily similar, as if written by the same nonhuman.

Candidates fume when they click “submit” and don’t hear back—and sometimes even when they do. Amanda Palasciano, in Red Bank, N.J., scored an interview for a senior copy-manager position as she sought a job in advertising. The catch was that her interviewer was an avatar, not a person.

The video call was awkward. Palasciano, 42, had a short window to record her response to each question. She didn’t know where to look. Soon after, she was rejected.

“It put a bad taste in my mouth about the company,” she says. “If that’s how much reliance you put on brand-new tools over people, this isn’t the right place for me.”

She decided to stop applying online and started asking former colleagues about short-term openings , aiming to convert one to a full-time job.

“This front door is locked,” Palasciano says. “We’re going through the back door, or we’re not working.”

Fewer applicants, higher quality

Lindsay Broveleit, a Minneapolis-area vice president at the marketing agency Matato, didn’t bother posting a job listing online when she needed to fill a midlevel role this spring.

She feared that listing the position on LinkedIn or the company’s website would bring throngs of low-quality applications—and she was anxious about how truthful AI-enhanced applications might be.

“A couple of years ago, I would have absolutely pursued more digital channels that are more public-facing,” she says. Not now. “We don’t want that many applicants. We want good ones.”

She thought to tap her and her colleagues’ networks to fill the role, but she soon reconsidered—even those personal channels have become oversaturated with first- and second-degree connections looking for work.

Employees are “inundated with people asking for their help to navigate into open positions,” she says.

She contracted a staffing agency instead.

Whether using agencies or their own employees, more companies are turning to people to vet prospects.

Laserfiche, a maker of content-management software, has a longstanding employee-referral program and a renewed commitment to contact everyone who is recommended by an employee.

The guaranteed outreach does not ensure an offer, says Vice President of People Jenny Bode, but it is a chance for candidates with unconventional backgrounds to make a case for themselves. With about 400 applicants for a typical opening, that’s an opportunity not afforded to everyone.

Bode values referrals partly because one helped bring her to Laserfiche in 2022. She wasn’t even looking for a job when she heard from a former co-worker she’d kept in touch with.

“She reached out to me and said, ‘I have this position. Do you want to interview for it?’” Bode recalls.

Alison Mincey introduced referral bonuses of up to $2,500 when she became chief human resources officer at the University of Miami in 2022. She estimates one in 10 hires now starts with an employee referral. The program, she says, also helps with retention: Employees are more engaged when their input is valued, and newcomers are more likely to stay and thrive when they already know a co-worker.

A flawed but indispensable system

On Greenhouse’s platform, when employees submit referrals, the software prompts them to “consider referring people from underrepresented backgrounds.”

That can be a challenge. People tend to know—and therefore recommend—people like themselves, says Ruth Thomas, chief of research and insights at PayScale, a compensation-management firm. (PayScale itself has lately doubled its usual share of new hires found through referrals, to 30%.)

Referral networks tend to reinforce demographic imbalances . A PayScale survey of 53,000 workers found that white men land more jobs and bigger raises through referrals than others because they are more likely to be connected to corporate decision makers.

Hiring managers might say, “They were in my club at Princeton, and therefore, they’re a good person,” says John Horton, an associate professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Sloan School of Management and co-author of a recent paper on artificial intelligence in hiring. “If people start to retreat away from an open market, and it happens much through who you know and references, that would be bad.”

Cisco Systems is leaning more heavily on referrals for hiring than it has in the past. But the network-equipment company knows the approach can run counter to diversity efforts, so it also launched an effort to hire more people of color and workers without four-year degrees, says Macy Andrews, vice president of employer branding for people and purpose. That hiring initiative looks to identify candidates with transferable skills rather than mandating college. Cisco so far has made over 100 hires through the initiative.

The company is looking to cut through the online-application morass in other ways as well. Cisco recruiters now visit college campuses with preprinted offer letters, so they can snap up students who make strong impressions.

“There is a bigger point here, which is that the process of sending in résumés and having thousands—sometimes millions—to go through isn’t the wave of the future,” she says.

No connection, no luck

Samuel Joynson, of Venice, Fla., launched a thoroughly modern job hunt after he lost his job when his company went through a reorganisation. He enlisted ChatGPT to edit his résumé and draft emails and cover letters.

The language didn’t sound like him—so he changed his approach.

Joynson, 28 years old, switched to writing his own letters and emails, investing about two hours into each application. He also pushed himself to contact everyone he knew at major tech companies including Apple, Google and Microsoft , where he talked to a friend from college. On calls, he asked them about their experiences at the companies, the office environment and remote-work policies.

“I took the approach of making it as human-based as possible,” he says.

Joynson’s old-fashioned strategy paid off. Many conversations led to introductions to other employees within his target companies. He landed a role and started as a senior technical program manager at Microsoft in April.

Francisco Denis recently discovered that connections—or lack thereof—can make all the difference. He says he was a finalist for a project-manager role at Disney but was told by a recruiter that the company decided to hire someone who had worked there in the past and could plug in immediately.

Denis, 40, has applied online for more than 100 jobs this year after moving on from an unsuccessful startup. His efforts have yielded only a handful of interviews, a jarring turn from a couple of years ago, when he was routinely headhunted. He’s pouring energy into networking for the first time in his career, reconnecting with former co-workers at companies he’d like to join. He often shares his résumé and describes his arduous job search to show that he’s not looking for a handout.

Still, even a system that relies on human connections can be gamed. On Fishbowl, an app for workplace venting and career advice, users have started a forum dubbed “Job Referrals!” It has drawn hundreds of thousands of members seeking endorsements from people they don’t know.

“Anyone willing to provide a referral to Amazon ?” one user posted.

In lieu of a handshake or business card, another offered an emoji: “Looking for a referral for Spotify, thanks in advance :).”

Bogus referrals could be win-wins for the people who give and receive them. The applicants gain an edge and, if they’re hired, their sponsors might be entitled to referral bonuses.

The companies that extended the offer? They’re left with one more hiring strategy that can’t be trusted.