About us

It Started With Worry

It was October 1968. Our husbands were somewhere in Vietnam — we didn't always know where. We were young wives living near base, trying to keep busy, trying not to think about the news every night.

Dee found a flyer at church: "Craft Night — Tuesdays at 7pm."

She went alone. So did Maggie. So did the rest of us.

Six strangers sat around a folding table in the fellowship hall, learning to twist wire and string beads. We didn't talk much that first night. We didn't have to. We all knew why we were there.

By the third Tuesday, we were laughing. By the tenth, we were family.

We Made Jewelry To Survive

There's something about working with your hands when your mind won't stop racing. The wire. The stones. The tiny clasp that needs your full attention. It pulls you out of the fear, just for a moment.

We got better. We taught each other. Dee showed us how to set stones. Linda brought sea glass she'd collected from the Carolina coast. Ruthie added her grandmother's beadwork techniques. Maggie figured out how to source gems from the Blue Ridge mountains.

What started as distraction became craft. What started as craft became art.

For 50 Years, We Kept It Small

Our husbands came home. We raised families. Life moved on.

But every Tuesday, we still met. Same church. Same table. Same sisters.

We made jewelry for each other's daughters. For weddings, graduations, hard days. When a friend lost her husband, we made her something to hold onto. When a neighbor's son deployed to Desert Storm, we welcomed his wife to our table — just like someone had welcomed us.

We never sold to strangers. It was always personal. A gift. A connection. A piece of us.

Why We're Selling Now

We're not as young as we used to be.

Dee is 71. Her hands shake a little now. Maggie's eyes aren't what they were. We've had this conversation for years — what happens to everything we've made? The pieces in boxes, the stones we've collected, the designs we never finished?

We could leave it all to our kids. But they have their own lives.

So we decided: one final collection. Everything we have. Shared with the world for the first time.

It's not a business decision. It's a goodbye.

Meet Us

Dee, 71 — The original. She found that church flyer in 1968 and changed all our lives. Classic, timeless designs.

Maggie, 68 — The heart of the group. She's the one who cries at every goodbye. Warm, earthy pieces.

Ruthie, 66 — Southern charm and intricate detail. Her beadwork is unmatched.

Linda, 64 — Ocean in her soul. Sea glass, pearls, blues and silvers. Her husband was a submariner — six months of silence at a time.

Patty, 63 — Bold and bright. She believes jewelry should make you smile.

Grace, 59 — The youngest, but she's been with us for 40 years. Colorful, joyful pieces with a little sparkle.

What Happens When It's Gone

The workshop closes. The Tuesday meetings end. Fifty-six years of friendship and craft become memory.

We're okay with that. We've had a beautiful run.

But we wanted to share it first. With women like us. Women who understand what it means to wait, to worry, to keep your hands busy when your heart is heavy.

If one of our pieces finds its way to you, know that it was made with all of that. Every twist of wire. Every stone set by hand. Every late night when sleep wouldn't come.

Thank you for letting us share this with you.

With love, Dee, Maggie, Ruthie, Linda, Patty & Grace