Over the next couple of weeks we’re moving into a new space upstairs at No.1 Hill Street, and as things are starting to fall into place, I’ve found myself reflecting on the past thirteen years. To be honest, I haven’t really stopped for air; most of my attention has gone into the work itself: the clients, the jewellery and the experience. There’s been very little time to chase press or recognition.
Which is maybe why I’m a wee bit surprised by how much it means to be shortlisted as a finalist for Bespoke Retailer of the Year at the 2026 NAJ Awards. Coming at almost exactly the same time as the move, it’s made me pause for a moment and realise just how far we’ve come.
Thirteen years is quite a long time. When I first started, I was juggling jewellery with three part-time jobs. There were tiny-budget photoshoots, shared studios with pals, trade shows, events and a lot of travelling around trying to figure out what I was doing. Some things worked; quite a lot didn’t. At the time, there were definitely moments when some of it felt like a waste of time. Looking back, I don’t think any of it was. Every experience introduced me to someone new, taught me something or helped me understand what I didn’t want the business to become.
One of the biggest lessons has been learning to trust my instinct. The mistakes I regret the most are almost always the ones where something didn’t feel quite right. Experience has taught me to pay attention to that feeling and also never to compromise on quality. Sometimes that means saying no, taking longer, or doing something again when nobody else would ever notice.
In the beginning, the plan was to design collections and sell them through stockists around the world. Then my first bespoke client took a chance and trusted me to make an engagement ring for them. As I began working closely with more clients and hearing they stories, I realised that what I loved most was something much more personal: it was the people.
For me, nothing holds quite the same sentimental value as jewellery. A single piece can represent an entire life lived, which is why being trusted with these stories never really feels ordinary. Over the years we’ve made jewellery to mark engagements, marriages, births, anniversaries, achievements, new beginnings and even loss. The truth is, they’re all meaningful. The finished piece may leave our workshop after a few months, but its real story is only just beginning.
And in many ways, that’s how the business has grown too: one commission at a time. One client recommending us to a friend. A couple returning for wedding rings. Somebody coming back years later to mark another chapter in their life. Those relationships matter to me.
We’ve never had a huge marketing budget or a sophisticated PR machine behind us. The business has grown organically through word of mouth and as we’ve grown, protecting the experience has mattered more to me than becoming bigger for the sake of it. We’re still a small independent studio and I want us to remain personal. We intentionally make a limited number of pieces each month because there’s a point at which making more simply means giving less attention to each one.
That’s not always the easiest way to run a business. Like many people who have built something of their own, there have been periods when work has consumed far too much of my life. Building a business while raising a family has involved a lot of juggling, compromise and guilt in both directions. There have been years when I have felt incredibly confident about what we were doing and others when I have questioned almost everything.
But I also know how fortunate I am to have built my working life around something I genuinely love. I have worked incredibly hard, but I have never taken for granted the fact that I get to spend my days creating things that matter to people, alongside a team of people I care about.
So maybe that’s why the NAJ shortlist means more to me than I expected. It feels like recognition of the way we‘ve chosen to work: the relationships, the craft and the care behind the whole experience. I didn’t built the business around being noticed, which makes being recognised for those things feel particularly meaningful.
And now we have simply outgrown our cosy showroom. The team has grown, and the new space will give us more room to sit with clients, as well as host small events and bring people together. We’re not moving because we suddenly want to become bigger or louder; we just need a little more room to do what we already do well.
A lot has changed since those early days and that first bespoke engagement ring. Thirteen years later, I think I understand much more clearly what matters to me. As we prepare to begin the next chapter, I find myself thinking not just about what we’ve built, but all the people who have helped along the way; friends, family, clients, suppliers, craftspeople and the team around me now, who care every bit as much about the smallest details as I do. No business is really built by one person alone.
So yes, we’ll definitely be heading down to the NAJ awards in Birmingham in October for a wee celebration. It genuinely isn’t all about winning. Although, let’s be honest, it would be nice. :)
