There has been much discussion recently in various on-line venues - and directly with customers - about making buyers aware just how much you put into a piece to distinguish them from 'assembled from components' or mass produced items. Sometimes it isn't obvious from item descriptions which of these it is and your only guide may be the price. It's important to me that buyers should be able to make that distinction and make an informed purchasing decision.

Please click the photographs to see a larger version of them.
The idea of seeing pieces part-made and in progress, or studio photographs, appealed to buyers - to reinforce the wholly hand crafted nature of the work. Those that choose to buy hand-crafted work rather than off the peg on the high street do so because they like to feel a direct connection with the artisan that made their new piece. They seemingly enjoy getting to know the artist and about their work and are fascinated with the work that goes into making a piece directly from scratch from raw materials and enjoy seeing in-progress photographs, something I aim to do more of in future.
As someone who tries to make every element of a piece of jewellery myself - from earwires, headpins and clasps - it is important to me that potential buyers are aware of the many stages of this process and how this informs the price of a piece.
Hence I decided to chronicle this particular project in photographs as I worked. I did an earlier blog on bringing a piece of metal to life, but only retrospectively, without the benefit of in-progress photos, but in view of recent discussions, I took photos as I worked on this particular piece.
I actually made two bracelets largely the same at the same time, so the photos are from both pieces and the first incarnation of it had a different toggle design. But as often happens when working on a piece, the design gradually evolves as practical considerations are addressed and problems overcome. Sometimes you can only hone a design once it takes on 3 dimensions - you need to have it in your hands in solid form to test what works - and just as often, what doesn't. In this case, the first toggle looked pretty, but didn't work as well as I hoped. More of that below.



The design of the toggle:
Designing a piece isn't just about drawing pretty sketches of the finished article - of which I do plenty and have pages of ideas yet to see metal - it's about engineering too. A piece of jewellery has to be attractive, but work and be wearable in a practical sense too. You don't want sections snagging on clothing, earrings trapping hair behind a loose edge and functional areas like clasps - especially on bracelets - must be fasten-able with one hand and not come undone in wear.
So the lion's share of my initial time on this bracelet was in designing the clasp. I wanted to make my own toggle from scratch - not just use a bought component - and yet it has to sit easily with the design of the rest of the piece - you want shapes to mirror the design and be balanced with the piece as a whole - the clasp shouldn't be an afterthought, but an integral and important aspect of the design. My scrap pile is a little larger as a result of this particular design process. Sometimes your first idea is spot on, sometimes they need a lot of snagging and trial and error. Hopefully that effort will result in a better final result for your customer.



Even commercially made toggles don't always work, I have several that I've bought that are either too tight or fiddly to fasten one-handed, or come undone too easily and cause the bracelet to fall off. So toggle design is seemingly especially critical in terms of size and shapes - where the hooks and rings I do more often are much more forgiving. I found very little information about the basic engineering of a toggle to guide me, tutorials either give exact sizes for the particular design, or skirt the issue entirely and must give rise to a lot of unsuccessful results and frustrated makers.

The toggle bar itself needed much consideration too. It needs to sit nicely against the loop, hopefully as flat as possible, but also be easy to manipulate when fastening one-handed - and remain securely fastened and also securely attached to the chain itself.

So this too went through several incarnations. In this instance, I worked on several versions of both elements of the clasp until I was entirely satisfied they were just what I wanted - and now that I've done that process, it's a design I will no doubt use often - and an important stage for me is in taking detailed notes and measurements as I work for future reference. But they are vitally important learning processes and sometimes you have to get it wrong to learn why it doesn't work and to learn how to overcome those important practical considerations. I spent more time on this project than I'd intended, but the learning process was well worth it to me and I hope it reflects in the quality of the final result.
I think I prefer this sort of practical lesson to just being told how to do it - one of the advantages of being entirely self-taught and working independently.