My 2023 Mantra

I’ve come to really love picking a mantra for the New Year instead of setting resolutions. Resolutions are easily forgotten within a month or two, only to be replaced with guilt for having neglected them so soon. A mantra feels more like a nudge, a gentle reminder that hey, here’s a thing that’s important to you — is there something you can do in this moment, even if it’s tiny, that’ll help you get closer to it?

And after taking a look back at all of 2022, especially the last few months (they tend to be craziest for retailers/people selling their wares), it quickly became clear what my mantra for 2023 should be:

Have more fun.

Overly simplistic-sounding and hugely vague? Yes, but it’s kind of perfect for me.

I have to admit that I stole this phrase from my husband, Zach. When he originally said those words, they instantly resonated deep down in my soul. Like, faster-than-the-speed-of-light instantly. And the phrase works on so many levels, both in my life and in my business.

Some context: At the end of the year, particularly November and December, I put waaaaaay too much on my schedule, treating it more like a wish list that I felt guilt about not finishing vs. an achievable hit-list. If I fell behind even a little bit I’d get cranky, and I started filling my personal free time with “just one more business thing, I swear!,” and then I’d be boring and tense and snippy. But when I made time for the most important things (like being in my studio or helping out around the house because we’re doing renovations) and “neglected” the things that I thought were important but maybe weren’t, actually (I’m looking at you, all of social media), my mental balance was better. Because I wasn’t as time crunched, I could dive more enthusiastically into the things I chose to do and I was just more fun to be around.

So “Have more fun” is my reminder for the year that I suck when I’m stressed, I’m tired of being stressed all the time, and I need to add more fun things into my life so that I can feel more enjoyment and less angst. In my business I have the most fun when I’m making things and coming up with new designs, not wasting hours creating #content or hunting for the exact right tablecloth that will “immediately convey my brand values.” The time I save by not doing things means more time doing actually fun/productive things, like exploring the creative process more (and leads to some of my favorite pieces, like the Thea Necklace and the Asp Hoops). And in my life, fun is putting more activities on my calendar that I will not reschedule in order to get that Instagram post up, and dabbling in new hobbies (helloooooo, embroidery!).

I’m ready for you, 2023 — let’s do this.

It's Not the Holidays Without Coquito

Image via Goya, whose ingredients you’ll mostly be using for this tasty drink.

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As a Puerto Rican, it doesn’t feel like the holidays if I’m not snacking on turrón (a slab of almonds with a hard nougat holding it all together), having perníl (slow-roasted pork shoulder rubbed in seasoning) for Christmas Eve dinner, and drinking as many bottles of coquito (a sweet, creamy drink comparable to eggnog) as I dare.

Every Puerto Rican has their own recipe for coquito and will swear that every other recipe is incorrect/ridiculous. I’ve seen recipes that call for eggs (what?!) or orange liqueur (absolutely not), but why mess with my mom’s version when it’s better than the rest and sooo much easier to make?

Try your hand at her version below (with a few notes, specifically about measurements because she’s notoriously vague about amounts):

Susie’s Coquito

Ingredients

• 1 12oz. can of evaporated milk

• 1 14 oz. can of sweetened condensed milk

• 1 15 oz. can of cream of coconut (Coco Lopez is her brand of choice)

• A splash of vanilla extract (or 1/2 tsp, to be more exact)

• White Bacardi to taste (anywhere from 1/2 cup to 1 cup)

Directions

• Mix all the ingredients in a blender, starting with 1/2 cup rum. If you don’t feel 🥴 tipsy keep adding rum.

• Store in a glass bottle in the fridge and shake before serving.

Notes

My mom balked at any deviations from this recipe, though other people will add 1/4 tsp cinnamon, 1/8 tsp nutmeg, and a cinnamon stick. You’re welcome to try any of these, just don’t tell Susie cuz she doesn’t want to hear it.

Also, feel free to skip the rum if that’s not your thing. Coquito tastes delicious on its own, too.

Working It Out

My earliest sketches for the “Royal Mines” collection.

Something I’m finally coming to terms with is how long it takes me to put together an entire collection and get it out into the world. Let me explain…

Though I started learning how to make jewelry back in college, I didn’t really dive into jewelry-making until years later, designing for big companies in New York City like J. Crew, Kate Spade, and C. Wonder. When I finally started making jewelry for myself I was still in a “big company” mentality: take a theme and design your brains out; sketch every possible iteration in the form of necklaces, earrings, rings, and bracelets; send the designs to a factory abroad to make; pick through those samples and decide what’s good to go, what needs revisions, and what gets dropped. We’d sketch anywhere from 150-300 styles per season and land on 80-100 that would go into stores.

When I started making things for myself, it became clear pretty quickly that the way I was used to working just couldn’t be scaled down to a 1-person team. (Correction: it was instantly clear to my husband, Zach; it took me 5 years to get on board). I *loved* designing all those different pieces, bringing a concept fully to life through a wide range of styles. But when you’re the only one sketching, working out the details, sourcing the materials, fabricating every idea, making the pieces to sell, setting the stones, aaaaaand juggling all the business-y stuff, things get overwhelming fast.

But since accepting that I can’t do all the things, I’ve come to some beautiful realizations that wouldn’t be possible otherwise: I can focus on fewer, more special things; I can take the time to get the details right; I can splurge on special or unique stones; and, in this increasingly digital world, I end up with a physical object that I’m proud to have made with my own two hands. Extra points if that object brings joy to someone else, too.

Working out ring details early in the design process with the help of my friend’s cat, Blue.

Early versions of the Pharos Ring.

Knowing that there are only so many hours in my week, I’m forced to edit down all the ideas to only those that I’m the most excited about. (“What a burden!” she cried sarcastically.) When you have to fill dozens or even hundreds of stores with new jewelry every few months, it becomes more about quantity than quality. How could anything feel special when you’re churning through hundreds of designs every few months at big companies? Now, I get to tweak and edit something until it’s the best version of itself.

Plus, the jewelry in every store would need to look exactly the same, which meant we’d have to use lots of synthetic materials, devoid of the things that make natural stones so unique and interesting. Forget about finding a stone that you like and making just one of something, too; at bigger stores, you’re making 100 at a time or you’re not making it at all.

And I love, love, love that at the end of the day (or rather, few months or even a year) I can hold something in my hands that I made from start to finish. So much labor, creative brainstorming, material sourcing, trial and error, and even frustration go into making each piece, and it’s so rewarding to be able to say I did it all myself.

At my bench setting the emerald and getting those prongs looking 💯

This was certainly not meant to be a diatribe against jewelry companies that outsource their jewelry-making to companies overseas — it’s just me realizing after way too long that I’m *not* a 200 person company, and that there are really special things that can happen when you embrace that. And if you appreciate all those same things, I’m so glad we found each other.

My Mantra for 2022

Are you into New Year’s resolutions? I, personally, gave up on them a few years ago since I'd usually forget them around April (except baking-related ones, obviously). Last year I switched to an annual mantra, instead — I like that it doesn’t feel like homework, but instead guardrails steering you in a better direction.

This year my mantra is “Prioritize Deep Work,” very much inspired by Cal Newport’s book, "Deep Work." The whole premise is that in order to get good, hard work done (in my case, jewelry) you’ve got to have long, uninterrupted chunks of time to really dig in.

And I see how last year I used things like obsessing over “social media content” (I’m looking right at you, Instagram), fussing over envelope colors, and incessant email checking, to avoid the “staring at a blank page” anxiety that happens before I sit down to really get to work or when I've hit a stumbling block.

So “Prioritize Deep Work” this year will look like less time on Instagram (it’s off my phone and my soul already feels lighter), checking my email during designated parts of the day, and blocking out chunks of my calendar to just be at my jewelry bench.

More than anything I want to make beautiful things for you, and I’m hoping that more time away from the fluff means that I can do that. Think (spoiler alert!) new lapis lazuli pieces, delicate gold jewelry rings and earrings, and some old favorites using new stones.

Here’s to a better 2022 with less of what we don’t need and more of what actually makes us happy.

P.S. Does dis-entangling yourself from social media sound great for your own personal life, too? I highly recommend Cal Newport’s other book, “Digital Minimalism,” chock full of strategies to do just that.