A current occupational hazard is that my mother is wont to pass me certain pieces of jewellery of hers (god forbid, sometimes even of her friends) that have fallen apart. The latest example lies to the left.

Now let's look at these earrings closer. The style is clean and simple - I like. However, the technical design and quality of materials sucks stinky baboon ass. Not only are the hoops and settings constructed from what feels like lousy, lightweight metalised plastic which is rubbing off in certain areas (!!!), the loops that connect the drops to the earwires are open. Which means you can yank them apart effortlessly if so inclined. I am also 100% sure these are either glass or crystal. Likely with a mirror coating at the back.

Never mind that I fixed them in two seconds. I asked my dearest mother how much she paid for this nonsense, and she said it was $30 from some brand they carry in the department stores. I screeched in outrage because, in my humble opinion, they aren't worth more than $2. OK, maybe $4. Heck - for $30, I think I can get at least 5 different pairs of earrings from a streetside pushcart.

And today, I saw a comment that saddened me: someone (a Singaporean) let on to a friend that although one of the pairs of Vintaj brass earrings they purchased from me was their favourite, they felt I run an "expensive online shop". Riiiight... materials aren't cheap y'know, even at wholesale rates.

Add in the fact that some people, as I mentioned in my previous post, get away so damn successfully with even more obscene prices for their shoddy craftsmanship, and you end up with an extremely disgruntled and disillusioned me.

I don't know how many times I need to remind people that (a) I use only quality materials; (b) you do not pay any useless middlemen so costs are as low as humanly possible; (c) most of my designs are limited. But I guess a large portion of local consumers are already used to and therefore constantly looking for disposability a.k.a. cheap temporary shit. Quantity > quality.

My mother included.

P.S. I don't like to get accessories for my mum because her style is totally different from mine. She likes colourful, gaudy, glittery things. When I give her costlier but classic pieces (not even made by myself), she doesn't even wear them as often. BAH.

After several years of making and selling jewellery, and especially now that the holiday season looms again, I marvel again at how de Beers, Tiffany and other mega retailers have transformed the humble element carbon (ok, an allotrope of) into cut, polished and overmarketed items of adornment that most consumers now disturbingly equate to love, romance and all that shit. Or at least that's what we're being told it means... all the damn time. If you think about it, doesn't it sound ridiculous? Such taglines abound, beseeching the hapless guy to shower his woman with affection by forking out 3x his monthly salary for a tiny bit of sparkle. Single girl, modern and credit-rich? Just pamper yourself with a bit of luxury then, you "deserve it", you're "worth it", so why let a man to go into debt for you when you can achieve that yourself?

Diamonds are not functional. They do not appreciate in value. There are, frankly, loads of substitutes both natural and manmade that give you the same (or similar, as you can't really tell from a distance) dazzle. What diamonds offer is a romanticised fairytale that A&M suits came up with decades ago. And with clever product placement amongst celebrities and royalty, diamond jewellery has become one of those ironically mass consumer, luxury status symbols that I love to hate because everyone wants it for vanity reasons.

But back to gift giving. Eons ago (read: when I had money but no time), I was trying to rationalise this thing about blowing wads of cash on your loved ones. People do it all the time: the more painfully expensive a gift is, the greater the affection is conveyed because it means that the giver would have less to spend on him/herself - a kind of sacrifice perhaps. That is, until I realised that this sort of thinking condenses money into the basic unit of currency for everything else like time, fun and love. And because the trappings of a modern lifestyle leave less of those things for us to give, we tend to offer the only equivalent we have left.

Of course this is not a must, and not everyone does it. But I'm sure you'd agree that there are lots of thing money cannot replace (and jewellery is unfortunately not one of them). So often when we shop for others we do it based on a budget in mind. Money provides a convenient excuse not to think about what we can do for the recipient. Such as using each gifting occasion as a potential way to better their life, inspire them to try something new or different, or even just to cheer them up with the simplest idea possible - because that's how we can show that we really do care. All you need to do is put some thought into it. And if you really have to give jewellery (or any other frivolous accessories - and I'm shooting myself in the foot here but I really don't care any more), do it because you sincerely want to share some art that moved you with the intricacy of its creation, the flawlessness of the design, or because you think the recipient will be enthralled with how the piece expresses their personality. Not because it is THE thing to do. Or am I being idealistic again?

I'm 90% certain I will be spending a considerably large sum on a new toy very soon. It is not going to be sparkly, but I think I will have a lot of fun with it. Merry Christmas to myself ;)

First, the news: I'm participating in VivaWoman's July VivaBella Giveaway. Amongst a slew of other beauty products and accessories, one of two lucky winners could be wearing my Khloris Earrings, which I originally retired but remade especially for this event. Check out the post to find out how to qualify.


Now that that's out of the way... here are some humble personal opinions I really can't bottle up any longer.

I've never believed in selling off my work at a discount just for clearance's sake. That's why I've been running giveaways, and not sales. In fact, if something hasn't sold for a while, I'd be more inclined to keep it for myself, give it away or even take it apart to reuse the components, but not to try and hawk it off at half price or something. What sort of message would that convey about my work? That I myself don't even like it that much and am desperate to get rid of it? That I insist on pushing my work onto you? That I padded the pricing enough to still be able to live with myself after a discount? That the value of a piece of art (yeah I know it's subjective) can be so easily chopped and changed? Etc etc. Maybe I'm biased but I can't really think of any positives, please help me here.

I've been asked many times whether I'll have a sale, or even just very directly "can I have a discount?" - I suppose buyers just try their luck because they want to get more (perceived) value for money? What a lot of people do not appreciate is that indie crafters (and there are many who constantly underprice their gorgeous work, it's painfully saddening) typically don't have the same devoted sales & marketing department or wholesale clout or practice the crazy markups that big retailers do. That's why shops can afford to have several sales each year and still make money (or not, I don't know - some shops' merchandisers definitely need to be fired). We do, however, take great pride in our productions and they are made with the love, care and creative spirit you just can't buy from dingy little sweatshops. But the sad truth is also that we now live in a world where there is always a sale going on at any time (offline or on), so consumers are used to being able to buy cheaply-produced mass market goods at 10-20% off on a normal basis.

Trent posted this and updated it a couple of days ago to include his views on the giving-away-music-for-free vs the pay-what-you-want model in the music industry - it resonated deeply and I feel would be applicable to any form of art in general:

This is your art! This is your life! It has a value and you the artist are not putting that power in the hands of the audience - doing so creates a dangerous perception issue. If the FEE you are charging is zero, you are not empowering the fan to say this is only worth an insultingly low monetary value.

Most people will try to get away with what they can; only a very small minority is socially aware enough to be a conscious consumer. But an artist needs to maintain integrity, self-respect and self-worth in order to continue his chosen path. I mean, that's why you are stepping out and doing your own thing, instead of being cooped in an office doing what your boss demands or what society dictates or expects. Or at least, that's a scenario some of us aspire to.

Obviously, people are going to feel differently from me - I do believe it all depends on one's own personal objectives (more revenue? higher profit? brand awareness? artistic recognition? just a pastime?), so I'm not out to condemn anyone. As long as you do things on your own terms - not because it's what other people are doing - and you are happy doing it.

For those (yep all 3 of you) who are curious about tellurus packaging, here are some of the current iterations. I've struggled for a while because I really hate excessive packaging because it adds to shipping costs and is unfriendly for the environment (I'm rather worrying about what to do when my existing stock of free hand-me-down bubblewrap runs out). But in the case of fragile goods, I'd rather have shipped it in a box than have to deal with damaged shipments. I'm also struggling with branding and identity (sheesh, to hear myself say this after all those years dealing with ad agency fools) vs keeping costs down.

So if I'm shipping a rigid/cluster-style item, multiples or one-of-a-kind piece, it'll come in a plain black or metallic brown box secured with ribbon. This gold and black striped design is one of my favourites, unfortunately this is my last one - I hope I can find some more. The tricky thing about finding boxes here in Singapore is that it's usually kiddie-inspired pastel colours or tacky glued-on fake ribbons (with the glue still visible, horrors!) galore.


And if your purchase is structurally able to lie flat without taking damage and is (relatively) replaceable, you get it in the brown (or white) paper package tied with a bit of gold-edged chocolate (or cream) ribbon. Of course, there's layers of protective bubblewrap and all my pieces come with a ziplock baggie which, really, is the best way to keep humidity and other tarnish-inducing agents out.

As the month of February draws to a close, I ought to thank my repeat customers for their support, even in these tough economic times. I know you have lots of choices out there. I know many of those choices may be trendier, more affordable, or more "branded". I could do verbal diarrhoea on the advantages of buying handmade, but if you have ever purchased anything directly from an artist who takes pride and joy in transforming their creative vision into an object of sensory delight (OK maybe I exaggerate. Some might just be dabbling in it out of boredom, while others churn out their merchandise in order to put dinner on the table.) then you might understand. Come to think of it, it's like buying homemade pineapple tarts from a friend's friend's aunt because they just taste better than the ones you get in commercial bakeries. Generous fillings, quality ingredients, fresher stock, made with love etc etc. Alright, it's just a rough analogy... but I'm sure you can imagine walking into a boutique (I think they call them concept stores these days, whatever the heck that means), being sussed up by a calculative shop person who just wants to make a commission or sales target (yes, you are just a statistic to them), and picking out something that is overpriced, overexposed, mass-produced and that makes you look hip for perhaps a few months. Seriously, I don't see what's so special about that.

Oops... I don't know where that mini rant came from! Back to regularly scheduled programming...

What I wanted to say was this little reminder that I will be picking the winner of the Camomile Swizzlers this Sunday (haven't decided the time yet, probably at night, Singapore time). If you are on Facebook and haven't yet become a fan, I encourage you to do so because I hope to run future promos just for FB fans :)

Good luck and good night!

Here's a jewellery pet peeve I never knew I had: when people mix 14k goldfill and 22-24k vermeil, goldfill and brass, or sterling silver and pewter components. On the same piece.

Sure, it's nice when you mix metals for a contrasting difference, but with these combinations, it's like looking at two different shades of turquoise instead of looking at turquoise and blue. I feel really uncomfortable when things are almost the same but not quite. What's more, these different metals are going to oxidise at different rates and change the look of your jewellery.

Is it so hard to find a matching component?? I just don't get it.

This is just a mild rant about how I feel as a buyer on Etsy.

Most of the time, the transactions have been fine. A few sellers in particular have stood out with their personal touch and, of special concern to international buyers, fast shipping.

I'm a seller too, so of course I know we can't control the amount of time a package spends in mail transit. What we can control is how soon we dispatch it. What's acceptable to me is probably 3 business days max for non-customised stuff, i.e. stuff you already have on hand - provided the processing time for a shipment to be mailed out is clearly stated somewhere. I do read everything on your profile page if I'm gonna buy something from your shop, you know.

What's unacceptable is a package being mailed out like 2 weeks after the purchase was made. The postage date stamp on the item says it all. Not only that, two bally weeks, and not even any follow-up convos. I hatehatehate it when I buy something and don't hear from the seller. Is it so difficult to even hit "reply" to the Paypal email and write one measly line about when the merchandise will ship? I've had busy sellers who still manage to communicate properly. I've had the occasional rogue package stuck in the mail for a month through no fault of the seller. Yes, you can mark an order as "shipped" in Etsy, but that doesn't tell me anything because there's no timestamp. I want to know when it shipped so I gauge when to expect it. So that I know something will have gone wrong if nothing shows up within a certain amount of time. Yeah, I know they might be clawing their way through an avalanche of orders, but still. Two weeks to ship? And then another two weeks to get here. All the while, I've been waiting, wondering and worrying because there was no communication.

So, this is getting to be a convoluted rant... but let me tell you, this has already happened a few times. What's the point of buying indie if I don't even feel like there's someone there on the other side?

The other thing I feel most indignant about is when sellers don't reciprocate positive feedback. As a seller, your feedback concerns mainly the buyer's payment. You don't have to wait for them to receive the item to leave feedback because it nothing else has any bearing on their rating as a buyer. At least, I don't think so. Again, I understand if your deluge of sales prohibits you from leaving timely feedback, but I kind of feel slightly "cheated" if it's not returned within a month.

From time to time I wonder whether this occasional cruddy treatment happens because I'm also a seller. Do they think I can afford to wait longer than other people? Do they think I know what's going on in their postal system and will somehow be more tolerant? Do they think I don't need the feedback? Don't I deserve the same treatment as normal buyers? Or do they basically treat everyone like they don't really need our business? Don't we all need to practise basic courtesy? Or am I just a spoilt Singaporean whining about life?

I'll say this, the good does outweigh the bad, but sometimes I can't help walking away with a sour taste in my mouth and disappointment in my bag that makes me wary of going on another spending spree so soon.