Jewelry

The jewellery lived in the glass case by the till, because Harper said it was the last thing a woman looked at and the first thing she remembered. The gold chains she bought plain on purpose — the beaded one, the fishtail weave, the three-layer that fastens as one so nothing tangles. The pendants she bought for the stone: a real opal that moves in daylight, an emerald-cut green, a reversible coin with a face on one side and a sun on the other. The rings she bought adjustable, because she got tired of people guessing. And the earrings she bought because they made her laugh — a bird on a branch, opal petals, a cuff that looks like four piercings and needs one.

This year, Harper and Tom’s health no longer allows them to run the shop, and after eighteen years the doors have to close. Rather than close quietly, their children Valentina and Ethan are seeing every last piece to a good home at up to 70% off — our thank-you for eighteen years. Nothing is being reordered: when a piece is gone, it is gone.

With love,
Harper, Tom, Valentina & Ethan