Monday, November 22, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Expect the Unexpected
Janet said she'd brought back malachite from Fez, and I said thanks. But as soon as I took one look I knew it was fossil.
I was equally sure about Willow's beautiful wood, formerly three-strand necklace.
.jpg)
Which is actually copal, sometimes called "copal amber." (This is why my team includes gemologists, appraisers, stone-cutters, and people who buy and sell stone. I was right about the "malachite," though. Fossil, sho'nuff.)
"Hang on. Did you just say amber?"
Copal. Sometimes called "copal amber," but that's actually a misnomer. Copal is not amber.
"But wait. Didn't Willow send you a bracelet and some loose beads? And didn't you have half a strand of some beads in that color family on hand, and some copal, too, from somewhere eons ago?"
Yup.

"Great. Looks like you've got enough of everything."
But no. That would be too easy. (And neither of us wanted to take apart that beautiful bracelet, if it could be avoided.)
So this project was more complicated than it seemed at first glance. Here are the main challenges:
1. It's multi-strand, which means, in this case, three different lengths, and the measurement of each one must be exact or the strands won't sit right on the neck.
2. The beads are graduated, which means you have to keep to the same proportions or the necklace won't be balanced. You can't just add a few beads here and there.
3. Light and dark hues of that beautiful yellow-brown alternate in the necklace, and that variation has to be respected or the color will look wrong. (You can go lighter or darker within the same color family, but you can't interrupt the color alternation.)
4. Copal is not easy to find in this shape and size. If you can find it, it can be veddy expensive.
Other than that, a piece of cake. (Or shortbread, which is what Willow's company, Heritage Shortbread, makes a particularly yummy version of back in South Carolina [we'd met at a trade show]. I mention this for you folks outside the Bay Area. Just gently pack the patient and send it along. Do call me first, though, so I know it's coming.)
So I was stumped once again. But I am too stubborn to quit. So I kept trying different options: wood beads, amber, copper, even buttons. Nothing worked.
But life always intervenes. And so it was that, after trying said bazillion different options, each of which had problems, and emailing Willow to say the patient was not responding but the doctor had not given up, on a very hot day (which we rarely get in San Francisco) when I was supposed to be somewhere else, I walked into one of my favorite shops and found lovely brass barrels that, with the dipped glass beads I had on hand from I still don't remember where (I think I've had them for years) solved the problem.
.jpg)
To be specific: I changed the 4-5-6 pattern at the top of the original necklace to 3-4-5 and built a new top for the necklace using a 1-2-3 pattern of dipped glass beads following the brass barrels, and everyone was happy ever after.
Big thanks to Susan and Haley.
©2010, 2014, 2015 Laynie Tzena.
I was equally sure about Willow's beautiful wood, formerly three-strand necklace.
.jpg)
Which is actually copal, sometimes called "copal amber." (This is why my team includes gemologists, appraisers, stone-cutters, and people who buy and sell stone. I was right about the "malachite," though. Fossil, sho'nuff.)
"Hang on. Did you just say amber?"
Copal. Sometimes called "copal amber," but that's actually a misnomer. Copal is not amber.
"But wait. Didn't Willow send you a bracelet and some loose beads? And didn't you have half a strand of some beads in that color family on hand, and some copal, too, from somewhere eons ago?"
Yup.

"Great. Looks like you've got enough of everything."
But no. That would be too easy. (And neither of us wanted to take apart that beautiful bracelet, if it could be avoided.)
So this project was more complicated than it seemed at first glance. Here are the main challenges:
1. It's multi-strand, which means, in this case, three different lengths, and the measurement of each one must be exact or the strands won't sit right on the neck.
2. The beads are graduated, which means you have to keep to the same proportions or the necklace won't be balanced. You can't just add a few beads here and there.
3. Light and dark hues of that beautiful yellow-brown alternate in the necklace, and that variation has to be respected or the color will look wrong. (You can go lighter or darker within the same color family, but you can't interrupt the color alternation.)
4. Copal is not easy to find in this shape and size. If you can find it, it can be veddy expensive.
Other than that, a piece of cake. (Or shortbread, which is what Willow's company, Heritage Shortbread, makes a particularly yummy version of back in South Carolina [we'd met at a trade show]. I mention this for you folks outside the Bay Area. Just gently pack the patient and send it along. Do call me first, though, so I know it's coming.)
So I was stumped once again. But I am too stubborn to quit. So I kept trying different options: wood beads, amber, copper, even buttons. Nothing worked.
But life always intervenes. And so it was that, after trying said bazillion different options, each of which had problems, and emailing Willow to say the patient was not responding but the doctor had not given up, on a very hot day (which we rarely get in San Francisco) when I was supposed to be somewhere else, I walked into one of my favorite shops and found lovely brass barrels that, with the dipped glass beads I had on hand from I still don't remember where (I think I've had them for years) solved the problem.
.jpg)
To be specific: I changed the 4-5-6 pattern at the top of the original necklace to 3-4-5 and built a new top for the necklace using a 1-2-3 pattern of dipped glass beads following the brass barrels, and everyone was happy ever after.
Big thanks to Susan and Haley.
©2010, 2014, 2015 Laynie Tzena.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Doctor in the News
Yes, it's true: Someone the Jewelry Doctor recently met, in writing about our sister blog, "Love at First Bite," included us, too.
http://www.examiner.com/x-12392-SF-Easy-Meals-Examiner~y2010m4d30-Laynie-Tzena*
Fine, you say. Where are those other restoration projects you told us were coming?
On their way.
http://www.examiner.com/x-12392-SF-Easy-Meals-Examiner~y2010m4d30-Laynie-Tzena*
Fine, you say. Where are those other restoration projects you told us were coming?
On their way.
*Update, 5/3/21: We were recently alerted that the link doesn't work. (Thanks, G.!), and contacted the person who interviewed the Jewelry Doctor and wrote the post--who said that Examiner.com has deleted its blogs, including "SF Easy Meals." Boo! Hiss!
Sorry! We are hoping to locate a copy of the original post. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The Magic Number
Long time no see! Well, look for some exciting recent jewelry restoration projects soon.
In the meantime, I wanted to make sure you all have the new number for the studio.
And what might that be?
Why, it's 415-796-3969.
No, I didn't move. I switched service providers.
What was that number again?
415-796-3969.
Right.
In the meantime, I wanted to make sure you all have the new number for the studio.
And what might that be?
Why, it's 415-796-3969.
No, I didn't move. I switched service providers.
What was that number again?
415-796-3969.
Right.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Time Travel
Once upon a time, a woman had a beautiful five-strand pearl necklace. She wore it often. This was the "Jazz Age," and faux pearls were all the rage. Karl Lagerfeld designed with them.
But alas, the pearl necklace broke one day. And she never wore it again. When she died, "Grandmother's pearl necklace" was given to Carrie. Who brought it to me.
.jpg)
At first, we thought we'd just make it into a three-strand necklace. Surely there were enough loose pearls to do that. But no. This is a graduated pearl necklace, and the remaining pearls weren't all of the right size. We needed more pearls. Graduated faux pearls. From that time period. In the same color family. I looked hither and thither and what do you know?
.jpg)
Then one day Carrie took out a sheet of notebook paper and made a sketch of a pair of earrings she had seen someone wearing. I used that drawing as a starting point for these earrings, which accompany a graduated bracelet that seemed only fitting to go with her necklace.

Turned out we also had enough pearls for a graduated single-strand necklace to go with her bracelet.
)
Last but not least, Carrie had mentioned that her grandmother grew roses. So some of the remaining pearls show up here:
But alas, the pearl necklace broke one day. And she never wore it again. When she died, "Grandmother's pearl necklace" was given to Carrie. Who brought it to me.
.jpg)
At first, we thought we'd just make it into a three-strand necklace. Surely there were enough loose pearls to do that. But no. This is a graduated pearl necklace, and the remaining pearls weren't all of the right size. We needed more pearls. Graduated faux pearls. From that time period. In the same color family. I looked hither and thither and what do you know?
.jpg)
Then one day Carrie took out a sheet of notebook paper and made a sketch of a pair of earrings she had seen someone wearing. I used that drawing as a starting point for these earrings, which accompany a graduated bracelet that seemed only fitting to go with her necklace.

Turned out we also had enough pearls for a graduated single-strand necklace to go with her bracelet.
)
Last but not least, Carrie had mentioned that her grandmother grew roses. So some of the remaining pearls show up here:
Monday, May 11, 2009
Happy Endings

What to do? The metal piece in the center of Michele's feather pin was broken. And at that angle, you couldn't get much of anything in there.
As for the top part of the pin:
See that pink center? The back of it is pointed. Once upon a time, there was a piece anchoring that to the metal one in the feather. Gone.
"Forget it," Michele had been told. "Can't be fixed. Nothing to be done."
Well, Michele didn't want to hear that. And we had just finished the chocolate brown bracelet (see "Look Again"), so I guess she thought I was up to the challenge.
I tried feathers, fabric, paper--nothing worked. But then I tried one more idea. Or should I say a notion.*

Oh, and in case you were wondering, the metal piece is still broken. I sewed right over it.
And what about that crystal top? It turned out to have two new lives, one as a pin and one as a pendant. Here it is with its new relatives.
As for the top part of the pin:
See that pink center? The back of it is pointed. Once upon a time, there was a piece anchoring that to the metal one in the feather. Gone."Forget it," Michele had been told. "Can't be fixed. Nothing to be done."
Well, Michele didn't want to hear that. And we had just finished the chocolate brown bracelet (see "Look Again"), so I guess she thought I was up to the challenge.
I tried feathers, fabric, paper--nothing worked. But then I tried one more idea. Or should I say a notion.*

Oh, and in case you were wondering, the metal piece is still broken. I sewed right over it.
And what about that crystal top? It turned out to have two new lives, one as a pin and one as a pendant. Here it is with its new relatives.

*Big thanks to the "Notions Queens" at Britex, Stone Mountain & Daughter, and the Ribbonerie for their help on this project.
©2009 Laynie Tzena.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Look Again
Photographer Dewitt Jones was doing an assignment for a magazine. He was to be dropped off at one location and soon picked up there and taken to the place where he'd be shooting. He waited at the designated location. Looked at his watch. Waited some more.
Finally, he said to himself, "Dewitt, look around." He started shooting.
Nothing ever came of the original project. The photographs he took while he was waiting, just looking around, ended up in the magazine.
Getting from Point A to Point B with a group of kids can be a challenge, because they're always looking around. As a kid, I loved to look at rocks under water. Turns out half the work in jewelry design and restoration involves looking closely at things, until you can see beyond the obvious.
Take Michele's bracelet.

When I first looked at it, all I saw was a broken bracelet with mystery metal (usually called "base metal"), busted tabs, and missing links.
I kept looking at it.
Problems emerged: The mystery metal proved to be metalized plastic, meaning that adding metal, soldering, and laser welding were all out of the question. There seemed to be no way to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again.
It was tempting to give up. But by then I had fallen in love with the pattern in those squares. There were working tabs on one of them. What if we put that square front and center, and built the bracelet around it?
Fine, but what kind of bracelet? Well, black and gold, right? Yes and no. There are many shades of black. Onyx proved to be the closest in color.
One more challenge: The original bracelet contained three segments with side tabs connected near the base with links. How to get the new one to align properly? Saucers saved the day. They were just wide enough to anchor the bracelet at the center. I used a slightly smaller round onyx to create a two-strand bracelet dotted with 14K gold-filled beads, then made the African ceramic and onyx earrings to complete the set.

And no, we haven't given up on those other two squares. Stay tuned.
©2009, 2013 Laynie Tzena.
Finally, he said to himself, "Dewitt, look around." He started shooting.
Nothing ever came of the original project. The photographs he took while he was waiting, just looking around, ended up in the magazine.
Getting from Point A to Point B with a group of kids can be a challenge, because they're always looking around. As a kid, I loved to look at rocks under water. Turns out half the work in jewelry design and restoration involves looking closely at things, until you can see beyond the obvious.
Take Michele's bracelet.

When I first looked at it, all I saw was a broken bracelet with mystery metal (usually called "base metal"), busted tabs, and missing links.
I kept looking at it.
Problems emerged: The mystery metal proved to be metalized plastic, meaning that adding metal, soldering, and laser welding were all out of the question. There seemed to be no way to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again.
It was tempting to give up. But by then I had fallen in love with the pattern in those squares. There were working tabs on one of them. What if we put that square front and center, and built the bracelet around it?
Fine, but what kind of bracelet? Well, black and gold, right? Yes and no. There are many shades of black. Onyx proved to be the closest in color.
One more challenge: The original bracelet contained three segments with side tabs connected near the base with links. How to get the new one to align properly? Saucers saved the day. They were just wide enough to anchor the bracelet at the center. I used a slightly smaller round onyx to create a two-strand bracelet dotted with 14K gold-filled beads, then made the African ceramic and onyx earrings to complete the set.

And no, we haven't given up on those other two squares. Stay tuned.
©2009, 2013 Laynie Tzena.
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