Sustainable Materials in the Creative Process

Let’s talk about the bones of it all. The foundations. The stuff we start with before we carve, cut, sand, drill, or dream. Materials matter. They’re the quiet co-creators in every piece of jewellery I make.

From the beginning, I’ve been drawn to materials that feel honest. Acrylics, Perspex, wood. Things that are unapologetically what they are. I’m not interested in pretending Perspex is glass, or wood is gold. I’m not about smoke and mirrors. I’m about clarity and creativity.

But more and more, I find myself thinking about where things come from and where they go. How long they last. What happens to them after they’ve been loved and worn and maybe passed on. That’s where sustainability enters not as a buzzword, but as a compass. Something that gently points me in the right direction when I’m making choices in the studio.

I love working with Perspex not just for the punch of colour and the sculptural possibilities but because it’s recyclable. There’s this myth that plastic is always the enemy, but it depends on how you use it. I work with offcuts and remnants wherever I can. There’s something beautiful in making something fresh and wearable out of something that might have ended up forgotten in a factory bin. It’s about seeing potential. Giving it form. Telling a new story.

Wood is another love. Especially birch, with its fine grain and quiet strength. I use FSC-certified wood only, and I always ask questions about origin. There’s something grounding about wood, something warm and earthy. It balances the brightness of acrylics and brings a kind of calm to even the boldest design.

I suppose, in a way, sustainable materials feed into sustainable design. What I mean is: I want to make things that last. Not just physically although yes, durability is important but emotionally. Pieces that feel like part of your story. Jewellery you reach for on days when you need to feel brave, or joyful, or rooted. Jewellery that doesn’t follow trends, because it starts with you.

And then there’s the other kind of sustainability: the kind that happens inside the studio. I try to keep waste to a minimum. I squirrel away scraps for future designs. I prototype carefully. I make in small batches. There’s no conveyor belt here. No fast fashion frenzy. Just slow, thoughtful making.

There’s a strange kind of magic that happens when you treat materials with respect. When you use every last bit. When you don’t rush. It’s like the work absorbs that energy -the care, the patience, the honesty.

I’m not perfect. No one is. But I believe in making choices that feel aligned with my values, with the planet, and with the kind of world I want to be a part of. Sustainable materials are one small part of that. But they’re a powerful one. They’re where the story begins.