Our 20-year anniversary collection, inspired by our symbol, the drop. It introduces twenty unique stories, one for each piece of jewellery, one for every year of drops.
She sensed there was something different in the air. Elements scattered here and there, a foreshadowing that something extraordinary might happen. And by chance, on her way home, she bumped into her first love. It had been 20 years. Is it you? It’s me! Tears of joy streak down their faces as they embrace and become one. Like it was only yesterday. Right there, in front of her doorstep.
She loves finding inspiration around her, to celebrate life’s little joys. These are her moments, and she knows how to cherish them. Every day she adorns herself, she admires her past and greets her future. The times she experienced, the strength of her emotions, the tears of joy, these are life’s beautiful moments.
Let me present the Dolls. The classiest, most striking figures in the neighbourhood. They are in their seventies, dressed in elegance and adorned in jewels; they meet for gossip and drinks at their favourite coffeehouse. Every day. The five of them reminisce about their past, they laugh and cry in unison. These are the Dolls, and their hearts are made of solid gold.
Sprawled on the hotel’s chaise lounge by the pool, her gaze lost at sea, her mind wandering. Unthinkingly she reaches for her earlobe, her fingers stroking the beloved earring. The splash of a dive, countless drops of water raining on her, brings her back from a daydream. Letting your thoughts travel, one of life’s many pleasures.
The train is ready to depart and he is running as fast as he can. But for what? His 7:45 am flight? His love far away in another country? Or his endless thoughts? Everything. In his hand, he’s clutching the proposal that will change his life forever. He’s made up his mind and he will do it. This ring must reach its destination: her delicate finger. Will she say yes?
A few sips of wine, her mind calm, fingers stroking the brand-new bracelet circling her wrist. A cherished gift from him, a token to remind her of their happiness and unconditional love. Moments of celebrated joy reflected in her wineglass.
Sitting on a bench at the train station, waiting to go home. He senses a shift in the air, the anticipation, the overpowering arrival of the incoming train. With the same urgency, she rushes toward him, desperately searching for her lost earring. Sometimes when you lose something, you feel lost. And if you find it, you recover yourself, and everything falls back into place. "Is that what you’re looking for?" he asks. "Yes," she replies.
She had selected every piece, only adding to her treasure when something caught her fancy. She had a discerning eye, knew what was valuable, and what to leave behind. As in life. "Few but precious," she said. Jewels in a jewelry box. Every so often she would lift the lid to admire her favorites or caress them lovingly. A collector’s reward!
She looked around, brought her attention back to her hands, and focused on her rings. One by one, she made sure they fit snuggly around her fingers. Ready. She grabbed the steering wheel. Before any of life’s journeys, before any new adventure, she needs to feel sure of herself. "Here we go," she said, and stepped on it.
They are two peas in a pod, the way the complement each other. They share the same home, the same history, the same jewellery box. In there, you’ll find duplicates of everything. Whatever one owns, the other one owns too. Except for one special pair of their mother’s pearl earrings. When they reach for these, one wears a pearl on her right earlobe and the other one on her left. That’s how they can share her aura as one.
She came home at two in the morning, headed straight for the bathroom, took off her earrings, and left them on the cool marble countertop. Looking up, she stepped closer to the mirror; pleased with her reflection, she recalled the highlights of the evening. "Amazing things happen here," she said, holding her hand over her heart.
She closed her eyes and let the sun gently stroke her cheeks. At the seaside, all our senses come alive. The waves lapped at her feet, the water splashed away her thoughts and roused her from a stolen siesta, the sun shimmered playfully on the ripples. It made her eyes sparkle with summer’s gold.
She didn’t open her umbrella when the first raindrops fell. Instead, she held out her hand and tried collecting them in her open palm. The more the rain slipped through her fingers, the more she wanted to hold on, like she was catching nature’s precious gemstones. Today’s rainstorm is autumn’s first shower.
The sounds of midsummer nights and nothing else. The trees whispering in the gentle breeze. They caress my soul softly as I reach for my favorite necklace. A gift from my mother. Like a gift from Mother Nature herself. It falls gracefully around my neck; the way seven moons would adorn the night sky.
The air was so clear, the sky seemed endless, and the sun kissed her bare skin; her necklace reflected the sun’s rays and shimmering heat. The stillness and light were intoxicating, and she drifted off to sleep in the hammock. Gently swaying and letting time slow down. With a smile. Light as a feather.
She stroked her necklace the way a morning dewdrop caresses a leaf. The feel of it against her skin, refreshing and cool, pleased her. As soon as she fastened it and let it fall gently, she knew it had found the right place. Her neckline. What are the colors of dewdrops, pink or blue? Any color you desire.
On a scale of one to twenty, how much do you love me? One hundred, he replied, and handed her a beautiful jewelry box. A twenty-year anniversary present. I love you 100 times more than you can imagine, as high as 100 skyscrapers, as far as 100 kilometers, 100 footsteps over the sea, and all of this multiplied by 100. Let’s toast to a hundred years together.
On her last journey of wanderlust, she dove into the bluest lagoon imaginable. She let herself be caressed by the velvety water, her movements reflected in the golden- green light of the leaves above, the trees swaying to the quiet rhythms of nature.
A whole life together, their hair has greyed, their eyes have deepened. Like their love. I see them every day. In style, in sync. They walk slowly, holding hands, to their favorite park bench. They’ve never missed a day. He lovingly holds her to him. They are captive to an eternal love.
Bit by bit, the space between them recedes. Like two bodies coming together. They embrace, wrapping and unwrapping themselves, finding ways to fit into each other. Special moments in life bring us closer. Can two become one? Yes, of course. The secret is adapting to what you desire, to regenerating, to experiencing a new birth. To making your life your own.