New posts on the way. But in the meantime, here's something to read that never gets old, with tips you can put to use immediately.
http://myjewelrydoctor.blogspot.com/2012/11/white-turquoise-or-whats-big-deal-really.html
And remember: when you see something that looks fabulous and want to be sure it really is, call the Jewelry Doctor at 415/796-3969.
Happy Holidays!
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Monday, September 16, 2013
Breaking Pots
I probably shouldn’t say this, but I love amazonite. There. I said it. This is how prices of gemstones go up: one person loves it and then another and then, next thing you
know—
Except that’s not really how it works (outside of Hollywood). I’ve been in stores where someone holds up a bead and says, “Isn’t this great?” And I say “Uh-huh,” because it is great—to her. To me? Okay. Meanwhile, I’m going bananas over something else.
Is everything, in the end, like dating?
So you might not like amazonite. But you still need to hear the story about my amazonite rondelles (roundels, if you want to be French about it). Think flat discs.
I have loved that stone ever since I first laid eyes on it a few years ago. Opaque. Marbled. Aqua. At a show a while back I found some puffy rondelles around 5/8 inch in diameter and 3/8 inch deep.
Think hockey pucks. Kind of chunky. Don’t really go with anything. Trust me. I’ve tried. But as we have established, I am stubborn (some would say persistent), and recently I’ve been thinking, “Turn it on its side.” The other night I decided to give that a try.
I’ve been doing various kinds of wirework for many years now, so I thought I knew how this operation could work. Tilted the rondelle, wove the wire through a couple of different ways, put it atop an agate cylinder—
And it was wobbly. I tried various techniques to stabilize it. Nothing doing. This is what I call the “science part of the program” (it’s actually physics, usually found in the “math” section, but if you ask me physics is where math meets science). The construction did not work and would not work, no matter what I did. (One reason: veddy small opening in the bead. Yes, theoretically you could drill it further, but no. Another time, we’ll discuss why not.) Before I got into metal fatigue—where the wire snaps because it’s been bent one too many times—I took it apart.
I started to feel bad about it, and then remembered my friend Rosalie’s wise words, from the time she was a potter (most of my friends have done many things; yours, too?): “You have to learn to break pots.”
Also true in Jewelry-Land. Now, don’t get me wrong: I don’t want you to break jewelry. I really wish you wouldn’t pull those necklaces over your head instead of taking a minute to use the clasp, because you are inviting the necklace to break.
But I also have to tell you that the reason handcrafted work—at least, custom work—costs what it does is that you have to break some pots. You have to pull out the stitches. You have to unwrap the wire and do what you can to return it to its earlier shape and then use your tools to straighten it, if you’re lucky and haven’t moved into the MFZ (metal fatigue zone).
Then you might, as I did, create a brand new pendant design using that very same agate that has been a problem child forever, a design that knocks you on your keister because it is so beautiful. (Or you might not. It might just be a disappointing day. I was lucky enough to study with the wonderful writer Richard Hugo, who told us, “The poems that come easily are a result of all the times you sat there and nothing worked.”)
And if everything came easily, worked every time, would we ever know the exhilaration that comes precisely because it doesn’t happen every time?
Mark Rothko said, “The most important tool the artist fashions through constant practice is faith in his (or her) ability to produce miracles when they are needed."
True. But maybe not in the way one might think. Miracles happen all the time—the amazonite rondelles are still on the table, waiting for theirs—but if you want to say we “produce” them, we do so in the way one might produce a show or a film: we create the conditions that allow the miracles to happen. It’s not brute force, or the artist’s will, that makes something come to fruition.
So what does? Call it chance. Call it grace. Whatever it is, it’s what most of us live for. And breaking pots is a time-honored way to get there.
Except that’s not really how it works (outside of Hollywood). I’ve been in stores where someone holds up a bead and says, “Isn’t this great?” And I say “Uh-huh,” because it is great—to her. To me? Okay. Meanwhile, I’m going bananas over something else.
Is everything, in the end, like dating?
So you might not like amazonite. But you still need to hear the story about my amazonite rondelles (roundels, if you want to be French about it). Think flat discs.
I have loved that stone ever since I first laid eyes on it a few years ago. Opaque. Marbled. Aqua. At a show a while back I found some puffy rondelles around 5/8 inch in diameter and 3/8 inch deep.
Think hockey pucks. Kind of chunky. Don’t really go with anything. Trust me. I’ve tried. But as we have established, I am stubborn (some would say persistent), and recently I’ve been thinking, “Turn it on its side.” The other night I decided to give that a try.
I’ve been doing various kinds of wirework for many years now, so I thought I knew how this operation could work. Tilted the rondelle, wove the wire through a couple of different ways, put it atop an agate cylinder—
And it was wobbly. I tried various techniques to stabilize it. Nothing doing. This is what I call the “science part of the program” (it’s actually physics, usually found in the “math” section, but if you ask me physics is where math meets science). The construction did not work and would not work, no matter what I did. (One reason: veddy small opening in the bead. Yes, theoretically you could drill it further, but no. Another time, we’ll discuss why not.) Before I got into metal fatigue—where the wire snaps because it’s been bent one too many times—I took it apart.
I started to feel bad about it, and then remembered my friend Rosalie’s wise words, from the time she was a potter (most of my friends have done many things; yours, too?): “You have to learn to break pots.”
Also true in Jewelry-Land. Now, don’t get me wrong: I don’t want you to break jewelry. I really wish you wouldn’t pull those necklaces over your head instead of taking a minute to use the clasp, because you are inviting the necklace to break.
But I also have to tell you that the reason handcrafted work—at least, custom work—costs what it does is that you have to break some pots. You have to pull out the stitches. You have to unwrap the wire and do what you can to return it to its earlier shape and then use your tools to straighten it, if you’re lucky and haven’t moved into the MFZ (metal fatigue zone).
Then you might, as I did, create a brand new pendant design using that very same agate that has been a problem child forever, a design that knocks you on your keister because it is so beautiful. (Or you might not. It might just be a disappointing day. I was lucky enough to study with the wonderful writer Richard Hugo, who told us, “The poems that come easily are a result of all the times you sat there and nothing worked.”)
And if everything came easily, worked every time, would we ever know the exhilaration that comes precisely because it doesn’t happen every time?
Mark Rothko said, “The most important tool the artist fashions through constant practice is faith in his (or her) ability to produce miracles when they are needed."
True. But maybe not in the way one might think. Miracles happen all the time—the amazonite rondelles are still on the table, waiting for theirs—but if you want to say we “produce” them, we do so in the way one might produce a show or a film: we create the conditions that allow the miracles to happen. It’s not brute force, or the artist’s will, that makes something come to fruition.
So what does? Call it chance. Call it grace. Whatever it is, it’s what most of us live for. And breaking pots is a time-honored way to get there.
©2013 Laynie Tzena.
Labels:
construction,
design,
jewelry repair,
the design process,
wirework
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Built to Last
Today is 5/8.
If you sew, you know the “5/8 rule.” For those unfamiliar with that term,
it means you aim to have your seams measure 5/8 of an inch. Using this amount of fabric at the seam provides support to the
finished garment.
Savvy shoppers look at the seams when they’re shopping for clothes. Lots of manufacturers started cutting back on the width of those seams years ago, down to 1/4 inch or less. Some say that’s why clothes don’t last the way they used to. Remember the expression, “falling apart at the seams”?
Clothing also used to have “finished” seams. This means that the fabric has stitches in two places, once to hold the fabric together (the inner seam) and again at the border of the fabric. This helps to protect the fabric from fraying. Designer Linda Lorraine’s gloves stand out not just for their jazzy houndstooth and leopard patterns, but because she finishes her seams. She does the job right.
Sometimes, when I admire a necklace, the person mentions the name of the store where it was purchased. Have I seen their jewelry?
“Yes, I think so,” I tell the wearer.
That store, like many these days, has great designs for very low prices. I restored one of their necklaces for a customer.
“The design is great, but the construction—not so much,” I told her.
When my customers bring in jewelry for repair, I can usually tell right away why the necklace or bracelet broke. Often it has been strung on filament or wire too light to support the weight of the jewelry. The manufacturers cut costs, using flimsy material (including cotton thread) to string with and cheap fastenings. This brings down the price, but doesn’t help you once you start wearing the jewelry. And the funny thing is, using good quality materials doesn’t cost manufacturers that much more since they buy in such quantity. But they figure they can get away with skipping that step.
I was picking up supplies at one of my vendors when a woman asked, “How long do you think this necklace (which she was stringing on filament) will last?”
“Probably as long as the trend,” came the answer.
Savvy shoppers look at the seams when they’re shopping for clothes. Lots of manufacturers started cutting back on the width of those seams years ago, down to 1/4 inch or less. Some say that’s why clothes don’t last the way they used to. Remember the expression, “falling apart at the seams”?
Clothing also used to have “finished” seams. This means that the fabric has stitches in two places, once to hold the fabric together (the inner seam) and again at the border of the fabric. This helps to protect the fabric from fraying. Designer Linda Lorraine’s gloves stand out not just for their jazzy houndstooth and leopard patterns, but because she finishes her seams. She does the job right.
Sometimes, when I admire a necklace, the person mentions the name of the store where it was purchased. Have I seen their jewelry?
“Yes, I think so,” I tell the wearer.
That store, like many these days, has great designs for very low prices. I restored one of their necklaces for a customer.
“The design is great, but the construction—not so much,” I told her.
When my customers bring in jewelry for repair, I can usually tell right away why the necklace or bracelet broke. Often it has been strung on filament or wire too light to support the weight of the jewelry. The manufacturers cut costs, using flimsy material (including cotton thread) to string with and cheap fastenings. This brings down the price, but doesn’t help you once you start wearing the jewelry. And the funny thing is, using good quality materials doesn’t cost manufacturers that much more since they buy in such quantity. But they figure they can get away with skipping that step.
I was picking up supplies at one of my vendors when a woman asked, “How long do you think this necklace (which she was stringing on filament) will last?”
“Probably as long as the trend,” came the answer.
The good news is you
don’t have to settle for that. All our
work—whether it’s jewelry we design, jewelry from our sources, or jewelry we
repair for you—is built to last. Guaranteed. Period.
Oh, and those teeny
clasps they’re putting on gold chains now, also to bring down prices? We can replace those with something designed
for someone over the age of seven.
You are so welcome. And honey, we love you, too.
©2013, 2014, 2015 Laynie Tzena.
Labels:
5/8 rule,
jewelry repair,
quality,
San Francisco,
value
Monday, April 22, 2013
Opportunity Knocks Again
You win again! Gold
ended the day at $1405 yesterday. And
the other day it closed at $1380. Your
Jewelry Doctor has been busy helping brides and grooms with the jewelry they’d
already ordered, and just got back to checking the market today.
So here’s what we’ll do: all gold jewelry orders placed before 5 p.m. Pacific time today will be priced at at $1380 per oz., regardless of what the market does today. (I had promised to keep you posted, and the Jewelry Doctor is a woman of her word.)
So here’s what we’ll do: all gold jewelry orders placed before 5 p.m. Pacific time today will be priced at at $1380 per oz., regardless of what the market does today. (I had promised to keep you posted, and the Jewelry Doctor is a woman of her word.)
What’s on your wish list? Call the (San Francisco Jeweiry)
Doctor at 415/796-3969.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Opportunity Knocks, and A Chilly Day Suddenly Looks a Whole Lot Better
Yes, it’s true: Gold
is at $1559 today, the lowest it’s been since—wait for it—December of 2011.
So what’s on your wish list? Call San Francisco Jewelry Doctor at 415/796-3969. We’re all ears—well, that, and great jewelry.
What’s that? Oh, honey, you are so welcome. But don’t dilly-dally. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
So what’s on your wish list? Call San Francisco Jewelry Doctor at 415/796-3969. We’re all ears—well, that, and great jewelry.
What’s that? Oh, honey, you are so welcome. But don’t dilly-dally. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
What Now, My Love: Time to Update That Ring?
She loves you,
yeah, yeah, yeah. But the ring, after all these years? Not so much.
“But she never
said anything.”
And she may not.
To you. But here’s what she told a dozen of her closest friends, including the
Jewelry Doctor.
“It’s a beautiful
stone, and the ring was perfect—for then. But I’d like something a little more
up-to-date. And I’m afraid to bring it up, because I don't want to hurt his
feelings.”
Okay, fellas, you
heard it here: if you’ve been married more than a few years, ask your wife. But
how?
Here’s an idea.
Try your own version of this: “Honey, I saw a really pretty pair of earrings
the other day. They were in the same style as your ring. And I almost bought
them for you. But then I thought I’d better ask you first. It’s such a
beautiful ring. And I love the way it looks on you. But somebody told me
sometimes women like to update their wedding rings after a while. What do you
think?”
You will probably
receive one of two responses—either “No, honey, I love this ring. I don’t want
to touch a hair on its head,” or “Well, now that you mention it, I’ve been
thinking about that myself. Would you be okay with changing the ring to a
different style?”
If the answer is
“a” (leave the ring as is), take a picture of it, if you can, or just make a
quick sketch, and we’ll choose a pair of earrings that echo the design. And if
it turns out your wife has been dreaming of updating the ring, just say, “What
a coincidence. I just met Laynie Tzena, who’s known as the ‘Jewelry Doctor.’ I bet
she can help us create a jazzy new ring for you. How does that sound?”
Hark! I believe I
hear music.
©2013 Laynie Tzena.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
The Jewelry Doctor Knows Santa Personally
“Please don’t tell me I have to go over to the stores in this weather or else I will be a Really Bad Person*.”
Not to worry, Honey. We’ve got plenty of beautiful handcrafted jewelry for you and yours: pendants, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets, in porcelain, Venetian glass, and gemstones. You can have your gift today or tomorrow.
Now, if you feel a tinge of a need for that certain ambiance, just ask and we’ll put on some of that nice holiday music and see if we can get anybody to yell and scream in the background. You’ll have to get someone on your end to spray the perfume and other memorable fragrances, though.
Escape from the stores. We’re friendly—and we have jewelry! Call the San Francisco Jewelry Doctor at 415/796-3969. Reindeer standing by.
*Honey, don’t be silly. Going to stores at this time of year doesn’t make you a better person. (It might make you something else, though.) Becoming a better person only happens through a lot of soul-searching and giving great gifts from the Jewelry Doctor.
Not to worry, Honey. We’ve got plenty of beautiful handcrafted jewelry for you and yours: pendants, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets, in porcelain, Venetian glass, and gemstones. You can have your gift today or tomorrow.
Now, if you feel a tinge of a need for that certain ambiance, just ask and we’ll put on some of that nice holiday music and see if we can get anybody to yell and scream in the background. You’ll have to get someone on your end to spray the perfume and other memorable fragrances, though.
Escape from the stores. We’re friendly—and we have jewelry! Call the San Francisco Jewelry Doctor at 415/796-3969. Reindeer standing by.
*Honey, don’t be silly. Going to stores at this time of year doesn’t make you a better person. (It might make you something else, though.) Becoming a better person only happens through a lot of soul-searching and giving great gifts from the Jewelry Doctor.
©2012, 2013, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
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