How I Went From Beader to Jeweler

People often ask me how I became a jeweler, and I always struggle to answer because there wasn't one defining moment where I suddenly decided, "Right, that's it. I'm going to become a jeweler."

It happened much more slowly than that.

Looking back, it was more like a series of little nudges. One tiny decision led to another, and before I knew it I'd somehow gone from stringing beads on the dining room table to setting off across America to learn from one of the best jewelers in the world. Funny how life does that.

And the funny thing is... I don't think the first person who believed I could become a jeweler was me.

I think it was my grandma.

It All Started With Beads

I started making jewelry when I was about eleven years old. At that stage it was all beads. I absolutely loved it. I'd spend hours making necklaces and bracelets, and I was perfectly happy doing that.

I wasn't sitting there wishing I could solder or set stones (honestly, I didn't even know those things existed in any meaningful way). As far as I was concerned, I was making jewelry!

My grandma (aka. Nanan) was my biggest supporter. 

She bought just about everything I made, which looking back, was probably more about encouraging me than actually wanting another questionably made beaded necklace. Bless her, she wore them every Wednesday anyway! 

To a young girl making jewelry on her bedroom floor, that meant the world.

Someone actually wanted something I'd made.

For years I was completely content being "the beading girl."

Then, in my early twenties, life took a completely unexpected turn.

Moving Halfway Around the World

I got married and moved to the Philippines with my first husband.

We'd been living in England, I'd been working full time, and suddenly I found myself in Makati with a completely different life. His company gave me an education allowance as part of the relocation package, essentially to compensate for me giving up my career and moving halfway around the world.

I remember thinking, "Well... I ought to do something useful with this."

I’d always been fascinated by gemstones, so enrolling in the Graduate Gemologist program through GIA seemed like the obvious choice. I studied most of it online, but the practical laboratory work meant traveling to Bangkok for three weeks to complete the hands-on classes.

That course changed everything.

Not because it instantly made me want to become a jeweler. It simply made me completely obsessed with gemstones.

Suddenly I understood why one sapphire looked different from another. Why inclusions mattered. Why moonstones shimmered the way they did. Why some stones were worth a fortune and others weren't.

Every answer just seemed to create another ten questions. It was like accidentally opening twenty browser tabs in my brain... and none of them were ever getting closed.

Living in Asia also meant I could visit gem shows I'd only ever read about before. I wandered around like a kid in a candy store... if the candy happened to be sapphires, tourmalines and ridiculously expensive diamonds.

Looking back, I think the seed was planted then.

Not necessarily to become a jeweler…But definitely to become something more than a beader.

At the time, though, I didn't really act on it. I was busy studying gemology, enjoying life in the Philippines, and settling into this new chapter. Jewelry making wasn't yet something I thought I could realistically do.

Until we moved again.

This time to New York.

My First Real Jewelry Job

I carried on working toward my Graduate Gemologist qualification and found a part-time job as a sales assistant in a small independent jewelry store in Westchester.

That little store kind of changed the course of my life.

I'd grown up in England where, at least back then, so much of the jewelry on the high street felt incredibly traditional. Diamond solitaire rings. Diamond cluster rings. Matching wedding bands. Everything looked... safe. 

Lovely... but safe. It was like discovering someone had been serving you plain vanilla ice cream your whole life, and suddenly somebody handed you salted caramel with hot fudge and said, "There's actually a whole menu."

I simply didn't know anything different existed.

Then I started cleaning jewelry and putting it on display in this little American jewelry store.

The designs were unlike anything I'd ever seen.

One designer in particular completely fascinated me. Susan Kalan had created a ring using a pale green tablet-cut amethyst with tiny diamonds hidden underneath it. When you looked through the gemstone, all these little flashes of sparkle appeared beneath the surface.

I probably stood there staring at that ring far longer than was professionally acceptable. 

With traditional jewelry, it’s the weight of the gold and diamonds that determine it’s worth… 

But this ring was valuable in a whole different way. It was well designed, and totally unique. It was valuable because someone had brought an incredible, creative idea to life (not just stacked their piece with expensive materials). 

That completely changed the way I thought about jewelry.

It didn't have to follow the same formula over and over again. It could surprise you. It could make you stop, stare, and wonder how on earth someone had thought of that.

That was the moment my idea of jewelry changed.

I still loved beading.

But suddenly, it just wasn't enough.

Watching From the Other Side of the Bench

Around the same time, I'd watch the store's jeweler working away in the workshop.

She mostly did repairs. Ring sizing. Chain repairs. Re-tipping claws. The sort of jobs that keep the lights on... but didn't exactly set my little creative heart on fire.

She wasn't making pieces from scratch, and although she was perfectly capable of doing the everyday jobs, I realized that wasn't what I wanted either.

I didn't want to repair someone else's jewelry.

I wanted to make my own.

Finding My Dream School

Somewhere during all of this I discovered New Approach School for Jewelers in Virginia Beach. If you know the school, you'll understand exactly what I mean. Today it's in Tennessee, but back then it was in Virginia Beach.

If you don't know it… just imagine stumbling across the place you've secretly always wanted to study.

I started looking at their website constantly.

I'd read through the timetable so many times I could probably have taught the schedule myself. I'd imagine what each week would be like. I'd look at photographs of student work and think...

"One day."

I had the entire three-month course mapped out in my head long before there was any realistic chance of attending.

I also secretly set myself a goal…

I was going to be the best student in the class.

No, I hadn't even enrolled yet, but that was still the goal 😆

There was just one teeny tiny problem… 

I couldn't afford it. 

The course cost around $12,000, plus accommodation. Looking back, it was phenomenal value for what I eventually learned, but at the time it might as well have been a million dollars.

My husband also knew me well enough to know I had a habit of throwing myself enthusiastically into new ideas. 

From his perspective, this might simply be the next obsession that disappeared six months later, so he wasn't exactly rushing to help fund jewelry school.

So I did the sensible thing…

I found a local community jewelry class about fifteen minutes from home.

The Class I Fell in Love With

And I absolutely loved it.

Not because it turned me into an amazing jeweler overnight, but because it confirmed something I'd been beginning to suspect.

I'd found my thing!

I was like a Labrador that had just discovered tennis balls. 

I loved the social side. Meeting all the lovely folks, and being one of the younger ones being taken under the kinder older ladies’ wings. 

I loved the tools, and that the workshop smelled like dad's garage back home.

I loved that my first saw-piercing project was pretty messy, but after a few more attempts it started coming together. It still wasn't perfect, but seeing that improvement after such a short time was incredibly satisfying.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I'd found the craft I wanted to spend the rest of my life learning.

But the more I learned...

...the more I realized I wanted proper training.

A few evening classes here and there simply weren't going to satisfy me.

The Phone Call That Changed Everything

Mom rang me one morning… 

For context, a few years earlier, my Nanan had died (moving on quickly from that part of the story before I become a puddle 😢)

She'd worked in conditions where she'd been exposed to asbestos, and my parents had made a compensation claim relating to that exposure. I had absolutely no idea they were even doing it.

But on this day, mom found out the claim was successful. 

My parents received around £60,000 and, without hesitation, they gave my sister and me £10,000 each.

I honestly can't remember the conversation itself.

What I do remember is that there wasn't a single second of uncertainty about what I was going to spend my share on.

Not one.

I'd already spent months imagining myself at New Approach. I'd already walked through those workshops a thousand times in my head. I'd mentally picked my bench. I'd probably graduated at least three imaginary times.

This was simply the day the dream became possible.

Thanks to the exchange rate at the time, my inheritance would cover both the course and somewhere to live for three months… it even covered the gas I'd need for the eight-hour drive from New York to Virginia Beach 😭 I couldn’t believe it… 

For the first time, this wasn't something I hoped I'd do one day.

I was actually going.

The Long Drive South

I remember setting off on a Saturday. 

I also remember having a stinking hangover because Charlie, the barman at our local bar, had been generously supplying me with free sambucas the night before.

Not exactly peak athletic performance.

Armed with Panadol, several bottles of water, and what felt like blind optimism, I climbed into my little Mazda, programmed the address into my Garmin... yes, this was before we all carried sat navs around in our pockets... and headed south.

Eight hours.

Somewhere between New York and Virginia Beach, the excitement gradually overtook the hangover.

Walking Into the Workshop I'd Dreamed About

When Monday morning arrived, I turned up early (shocking absolutely nobody who's ever met me.)

Only a handful of us were standing outside waiting for the doors to open.

Adam, Michelle, Louis, Tommy… we swapped names and niceties, not knowing we were about to become best mates over the next 3 months. 

When the workshop doors finally opened, something completely unexpected (and kind of embarrassing) happened.

I walked inside...

...and I started crying. 

Not exactly the cool, composed entrance I'd imagined. I just couldn't believe I'd actually made it!

For months that workshop had only existed in my imagination. Now I was standing inside it.

It was real!!!

I quickly pulled myself together, headed straight for the front bench, and claimed it before anyone else could.

To be fair, if someone had really wanted it I'd have happily moved.

...

Probably.

The reason I wanted that bench so badly was because it faced Blaine Lewis perfectly.

He had fantastic camera equipment so everyone could see the demonstrations anyway, and we'd regularly gather around his bench for practical demos, but in my head I wanted to be as close to the action as humanly possible. 

I'd waited too long to be there.

If he so much as blinked in a way that looked educational, I wanted front-row seats.

The Biggest Lesson I Learned

Blaine turned out to be everything I'd hoped for in an instructor.

Of course he taught incredible technical skills.

But looking back, I think the biggest thing he gave us was confidence.

By the end of those three months, every one of us genuinely believed we could walk into the real world and become professional jewelers.

That confidence was worth every bit as much as the techniques we learned.

Probably more.

The Moment I Realized...

Our final project was a platinum and 18-karat gold three-stone ring, made completely from scratch.

I remember looking at it sitting on my bench and realizing something had changed.

I wasn't pretending anymore.

I wasn't hoping to become a jeweler.

I was one.

Not because someone had given me permission. Not because I'd received a certificate... although I do still have a rather lovely certificate.

But because, with Blaine's help, I finally believed it myself.

Two Weeks Later...

After graduating I was offered a job almost immediately with a local jeweler doing repairs.

I passed the bench test despite feeling like my heart was trying to escape through my ears.

The job lasted exactly two weeks. Which, in hindsight, was an excellent effort considering I'd mentally quit after about day three.

They were cutting corners and doing work that I knew wasn't right.

I'd just invested all that time, money and effort learning from one of the best instructors in the country… The last thing I wanted was to spend the next few years unlearning good habits and replacing them with bad ones.

So I left.

That, however...

...is another story.

Looking Back

When people ask how I became a jeweler, it's tempting to point to one big moment.

The Gemologist program. 

The local jewelry school.

The inheritance.

New Approach.

Graduation.

But honestly...

I don't think it was any one of those things.

It started with a little girl stringing beads together on the dining room table. It grew through an obsession with gemstones. It expanded when I discovered jewelry could be inventive rather than conventional.

And most of all…

It was fueled by a grandmother who believed enough in my handmade jewelry to buy it long before anyone else did. And whose final gift, without ever intending it, helped pay for the education that changed my life.

Looking back now, I don't think I ever really stopped being that beader.

I just kept raising my own standards until one day I looked around and realized I'd become the jeweler I'd spent years dreaming about.