The Collection

A brass bat spreads its wings inside a blackened ring, and from that ring falls a short Byzantine lead ending in a pentagram. Warm bronze against cool steel: the mixed metal is deliberate, and it is what makes this read as an artifact rather than an accessory.

Bats have carried the same meaning across most of Europe for centuries. They are creatures of the threshold, at home in the hour between one day and the next. The pentagram beneath is the older kind, drawn for protection rather than provocation.

Byzantine weave run twice over. Double the rings, double the density, and twice the hours at the bench. The result is a chain with real presence and a liquid drape a single weave cannot manage.

No focal, no ornament. The weave is the whole argument, which is the point: this is the piece that shows what the technique is actually capable of when nothing is competing with it.

Twenty inches of single Byzantine, woven with deliberately tightened passages that catch the light differently as the chain moves.

It falls below the collarbone and works alone or layered beneath something heavier. The longest of the plain chains, and the most versatile piece in the collection.

The weave at its most honest: seventeen inches, no focal, finished with a hand-fitted toggle.

This is the piece that shows what Byzantine actually is, and the one most likely to become the thing you forget you are wearing. If you want to understand the work before committing to a statement piece, start here.

A raw, uncut garnet, deep red shot through with black, hand-wrapped in wire and hung from eighteen inches of Byzantine chain. Nothing about the stone has been polished into obedience.

In the reliquary tradition the setting exists only to carry the thing that matters. The wire work here is deliberately minimal for that reason. Because the stone is uncut, no second version of this piece will ever look quite the same.

A crescent nested inside a two-inch ring, carried at the front of a mixed-metal Byzantine chain. Sixteen and a half inches sits high on the throat, which is where a focal is meant to be seen.

Lunar symbolism has meant transformation for as long as anyone has been writing it down. The crescent is the waxing phase: the part of the cycle that is still becoming something.

A welded ring at the throat, and flanking the closure a pair of scroll-cut bats with their wings open. Twenty inches of Byzantine between them.

The ring is the ward and the bats are the watch. Placing the ornament near the closure rather than the front is a deliberate choice: it rewards the person standing close enough to notice.

A Victorian heart padlock engraved with a coiled serpent and a scatter of stars, hung from fifteen and a half inches of Byzantine chain.

Padlock jewellery was Victorian shorthand for a promise made and kept, usually given rather than bought for oneself. The serpent decides whose.

Twenty-five and a half inches of Byzantine with a welded ring at either end, and no clasp, because it does not need one. Pass one end through the other and the chain closes on itself: the serpent taking its own tail.

Wear it long, doubled at the throat, or drawn close. It is the only piece in the collection that adjusts to whatever you need it to be, and the closest thing here to the house symbol made wearable.

Sixteen inches, the shortest of the plain chains, sitting right at the base of the throat.

Substantial enough to feel like something, quiet enough to wear to anything. The easiest way into the work, and the piece most likely to end up worn every single day.

Nine inches of Byzantine at the wrist, closed with a hand-fitted toggle. Dense enough to hold its shape, fluid enough to move with you.

The bracelet most likely to never come off. Measure a bracelet you already wear and send that number if you want it altered.

Two cast dragons face one another across the closure, scaled, horned, and finished cleanly enough that the detail still reads at arm's length. Eight inches of Byzantine between them, secured with a lobster clasp.

Guardians at the gate, which is what dragons were always for. The heads are the reason this piece gets picked up first at markets.

Nine inches of Byzantine closed with a barrel clasp that screws down and disappears into the weave.

For anyone who wants the chain and none of the hardware showing. Quiet by design, and the most secure closure in the collection.

A departure from Byzantine. The Serpentine weave is rounder, more supple, and moves like the thing it is named for. Nine inches, toggle closure.

If the rings ever look uneven, run it through your fingers and it settles itself. That is the weave behaving normally, not a fault.

The bar of this toggle is a Victorian hand, cuffed at the wrist and reaching. Eight inches of Byzantine behind a clasp worth turning over.

In Victorian jewellery an offered or clasped hand meant fidelity, a promise you wore where people could see it. The clasp is the piece here. The chain is what carries it.