Polly Wales is disrupting jewelry

Growing up, I always wanted to be an artist—it was part of my DNA. I studied sculpture. It was the 1990s and I was deep in the throes of the Brit Art movement. It was a very conceptual time in art. I began to feel fine art was unapproachable and required this whole other language to understand or interact with it, so I quit.

I became a prop maker and moved on to a narrowboat, in what was then a desolate area of East London. I was 23, and at the time, it was a pretty radical way to live. My loved ones weren’t surprised—they were used to my quest for an alternative lifestyle. I think fearlessness may have always been a trait in me.

It’s then that I started making jewelry. I had always made jewelry, but what young girl doesn’t? Playing around with bits and beads, dressing up in their mum’s pearls? As a kid, my grandmother used to take me to a London Craft fair and give me one small piece each year. It was the highlight of my year. That’s the real reason I decided to study jewelry at the Royal College of Art, wanting to make something that captured that sheer joy and pleasure.

What I loved about jewelry was that it wasn’t restricted to one type of medium or techique. You can do anything in jewelry; there is a flexibility and versitilty to how you can use materials that’s similar to sculpture. This focus on materials and aesthetics can be terribly liberating. You’re working with your hands in this very direct, almost vocational way, making pieces that are destined to be loved and worn.

I wanted to disrupt the idea that jewelry is this pristine thing.

However, I never wanted to make cookie cutter pieces—the kind found in jewelry stores around the world. I dreamt of handcrafted items that relished their imperfections and got better with age…jewelry that’s one of a kind, unique and wears its scuffs proudly. I wanted to disrupt the idea that jewelry is this pristine thing that’s perfect when it leaves the store and somehow becomes less over time. It only becomes more valuable—cherished, even—to its owner. So, why shouldn’t that be represented in its design?

My crystal rings represent this idea perfectly and are one of my favorite pieces because of it. Not only are they among the first things I ever made, but they’re also wonderfully inconsistent. Stones are cast directly into the metal in such a way that we never know how they’re going to come out. No two are the same. There’s so much chaos and serendipity that goes into their creation. Sometimes they’re breathtaking, and other times they don’t turn out. It’s an idiosyncratic process I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but I’ve been making them for over a decade and still find the process thrilling.

That thrill is what keeps me going, despite all the fears and obstacles in starting your own business. Its why I chose to move with my team—seven employees, my partner James and our two daughters—to Los Angeles this past December. It’s why business has more than doubled every year over the last five years. I’ve always been the kind of person who thinks, “Sure, we can sit here talking about starting a business, moving to America, whatever. Or we can just do it.” And that fearlessness may be part our success.

What it comes down to is this: I think that I’m at the forefront of what contemporary clients are looking for. There’s been a shift away from mass production, and now people crave things that are unique and handmade. The old vanguard is dead. While I can’t say we inspired the trend, we’re incredibly fortunate to be a part of it. And if we did somehow contribute to this larger movement in some small way, well, then that’s a job well done and something we’ll keep striving for.

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