When I launched ŌKAN, I was just learning about 3D modeling and the constraints involved in creating jewelry. I had a vision: distinctive and graceful lines, sculptural volumes, jewelry capable of instilling pride and confidence.
Stones, however, intimidated me.
In my mind, they belonged to a world whose codes I didn't fully master. The world of high jewelry, gemologists, knowledge passed down from generation to generation. I didn't feel truly legitimate in using them. So, for a long time, I left them aside.
This is quite paradoxical, as color has always played an important role in my life.
During my years at Armani Beauty, I learned to observe how shades respond, balance, or awaken each other. I learned that a tiny change in nuance could transform everything. But it took me time to understand that I didn't need to approach stones like everyone else. I could bring them into the ŌKAN universe in my own way.
With NIJI, I didn't want a stone to overshadow the shape.
I wanted it to be placed where it's least expected, in a playful dialogue with the jewelry's lines. The introduction of beads into my universe with the YŪGI edition reawakened my inner child. Ideas began to flow. What if the bead changed material, what if it was adorned with color? The workshop immediately sought solutions so I could realize my dream: setting colored beads directly in the boutique, according to your desires. We searched, tested, and retested until we developed the right mechanism.
For my part, I looked for the right stone supplier. A sculptor friend and then another gemologist pointed me in the right direction. Then, I had to find the right diameter. I absolutely wanted five-millimeter beads, a size almost impossible to find since stones are usually offered in four or six millimeters. I finally opted for 6mm, which gives more presence on the hand.
Then came the choice of colors.
I compared shades of blue until I found one that evoked denim, the sea, and summer skies all at once: kyanite imposed itself on me. I set aside greens that were too subdued or too dark, choosing a vibrant and tangy jadeite instead. I looked for a sufficiently luminous coral, then a kunzite whose softness wouldn't disappear in contact with metal. I also paid attention to the origin of the stones, to avoid sourcing from conflict countries.
The NIJI edition was born from this work, but also from a more personal realization: understanding that legitimacy doesn't always precede the action. One must allow oneself to do things and understand that legitimacy is not acquired; it is built through experience and learning, over time.
What makes me proud today is not only having finally introduced stones into my creations. It's having found a way to do it that truly resembles ŌKAN: sculptural, instinctive, and irreverent.
If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read me. I hope you now understand how precious this edition is to me — and, above all, that you love it as much as I loved imagining it.
Have a lovely evening,
Margaux
