I was six when I put on my mother’s bangles — all of them — and refused to take them off.
I still think about that.
Not because of the jewelry itself, but because of the feeling: discovering something beautiful and wanting to make it yours.
Most pieces start with something I can’t quite forget
A color. A place. A piece of jewelry I saw years ago. A shape that stayed with me longer than it should have.
Eventually, some of them end up in gold.
The pieces that stop feeling new and start feeling yours
There was a time when I wanted everything.
Now I’m more interested in the pieces I keep coming back to. The ones with the right color. The right shape. The ones that somehow work with everything, and still never quite disappear.
You know the one
The piece you saw once. The one you came back to. The one that somehow keeps appearing in your mind when you’re doing something completely unrelated.
Sometimes that is enough reason.