RAW Entry One: What Remains When Everything Else Falls Away

 

I didn’t design this collection from technique. Or from aesthetics.
RAW was born out of a moment of rupture — and clarity.
One of those phases when life shows you that growing isn’t always about moving forward —
sometimes it means losing, dismantling, breaking, and rebuilding yourself.

Time hardens the skin.
Edges erode.
There is fatigue.
And a quiet pain that keeps calling you inward.

When you dare to stay at the edge of that pain, something deep is revealed:
What’s essential doesn’t break.
Who you truly are remains untouched.
Not what you show. Not what you hide.
But what still pulses at your core, even when nothing else is left.

That’s why RAW pieces carry a harsh, weathered exterior.
Rough textures, wild imperfections — scars that no longer need to be hidden.
Because wounds aren’t the end of the path.
They are the teacher.
They’re born from the parts of ourselves we once tried to avoid.
And when we integrate them, we become whole.

Inside, every piece is mirror-polished.
That’s my way of reminding you: the shine is still there — even when everything outside feels broken.
That contrast, that duality, isn’t just visual.
It’s existential.

This collection is a journey inward.
Every curve, every crack, every raw surface has a reason.

I didn’t design jewelry.
I designed a process.
One that made me look exactly where I didn’t want to:
into what hurt, into what I silenced, into what I didn’t know if I could hold.

Releasing RAW wasn’t about finishing a collection.
It was about closing a cycle, so the next one could begin.
It was accepting that my wounds also speak.
That the shadow can’t be defeated — only integrated.
And that if there’s any truth to be found,
it’s not out there. It’s within.

So if one of these pieces finds its way into your hands,
may it not be just an ornament,
but a symbol.
A quiet reminder that you don’t need to hide who you were.
Because who you are today —
you forged it yourself.

— Workshop Journal. First drop: RAW.