The Story
A garden caught
in amber hour
The set began in the last week of October, when the atelier’s north windows turn everything they touch to copper. One of our artisans pressed a dried blossom between two glass slides and held it against that light — and the petals, backlit, glowed like foil. Amber Blossom is the pursuit of that one accident: flowers rendered not as ornament but as small vessels of stored sunlight.
Each blossom is drawn freehand with a single-hair brush loaded with gilding ink; the line must be laid in one breath, or the petal loses its tremble. The cat-eye tips are magnetised while the resin is still liquid, pulling a seam of light through the copper like a low sun through smoke. Between them, champagne glitter is settled layer by layer so it glows from within rather than sitting on the surface.
Wear it the way a garden wears October — warmly, and without apology.