Our Story

I'm Grace. My sister Rosalind is the reason Rosalind Grace jewelry has ever been worth buying, and I'm the one who has to tell you why we're closing.

Rosalind spent twenty years altering and beading wedding dresses for a bridal shop before she ever touched a jump ring: twenty years of tiny, exact stitches, the kind of close work most people never notice unless it's done wrong. Her hands were already skilled, and already tired, long before jewelry was ever part of our lives.

Twelve years ago, our mother passed away, and we cleared out her sewing room together. In a drawer, we found her old jewelry box: broken clasps, missing stones, pieces she'd stopped wearing years before. I started sketching what those pieces could become. Rosalind, who'd just left the bridal shop, started making them real. That was the whole business, for a while: the two of us, our mother's sewing room, and her broken jewelry made whole again.

For twelve years, Rosalind has hand-set every stone and closed every jump ring we've ever sold. Combined with her twenty years in bridal work, that's over three decades of the same fine, repetitive motion: the kind that wears a body down slowly enough that you don't notice until it's too late to reverse.

About six months ago, she was finishing a custom order, forty small jump rings, opened and closed one at a time, and her hand seized up so badly she had to ice it for two days before she could hold a fork properly. She hadn't told me she'd been icing her hands most nights for over a year. I only found out by accident.

A doctor confirmed what the pain already had: the joints at the base of Rosalind's thumbs, the ones you use to pinch pliers shut, thousands of times a week, for over thirty years, are worn in a way that won't get better. Only worse, if she keeps working the way she has been.

We talked about whether I could learn the handwork, or whether we could hire it out. But what people have actually been buying from us for twelve years wasn't just a design, it was Rosalind's hands on every piece. Without that, it isn't really Rosalind Grace. It's something else wearing our name.

So we're closing, on our own terms, while every piece we sell still has her hands in it, not after.

This final collection is what's left of the last decade: the last pieces my sister made before we made this decision. Once they're gone, there won't be more with her hands in them. I'd rather they go to people who'll actually wear them than sit in a box in what used to be our mother's sewing room.

Thank you for twelve years of letting my sister and me make a living this way.

With love,
Grace (and Rosalind)