After 42 Years, I'm Letting Them Go.

I opened this shop with Walter outside Rhinebeck, New York, in 1984. For 42 years, I've set every stone by hand. Same loupe, same bench, same drawer.

My customers used to ask about the pieces I never sold — the ones I made from vintage sapphires I found at estate sales in Hyde Park, Millbrook, Poughkeepsie. So I kept them. In a small oak drawer behind the counter. One piece. Then a few more.

I'm 72 now. Walter is 68. Our grandkids are growing up.

The drawer is full.

One last release. When they're gone, they're gone.

— Beatrice

Our Final Pieces

What 2,387+ Satisfied Women Are Saying

  • ★★★★★

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    Better Than My Grandmother's

    Three jewelers told me my grandmother's ring couldn't be saved. Beatrice saved it and made me a matching band from her drawer. Two women stopped me on the street this week to ask about them

    Eleanor W.

  • ★★★★★

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    My Husband Didn't Believe Me

    My husband rolled his eyes at the price. Then the package arrived with a handwritten note from Beatrice and a small sketch of the stone's history. He held the ring under the light for a full minute. Then he said 'okay, I get it.

    Linda B.

  • ★★★★★

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    I Cried Opening The Box

    Beatrice told me the sapphire came from an estate sale in Millbrook in 1997. She said she'd been waiting 28 years for the right hand. My mother had just passed. I don't know how she knew.

    Sarah K.

  • ★★★★★

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    Worth Every Penny

    I was on the fence about the price. My husband did the math. If it lasts like Beatrice said her grandmother's did, it works out to less than a coffee a week. Six months in, I don't take it off.

    Patricia L.

  • ★★★★★

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    My Daughter Called From The Post Office

    I sent my daughter a pendant for her 40th. She opened it in the car and called me from the parking lot. She said 'Mom, who ARE these people?' She's already asked what's left for Christmas

    Peter K.

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A Note From Walter

Beatrice does most of the writing around here. She's the one with the words. But she said this part was mine to say.

I've been at the same workbench since 1984. My grandfather sat at it before me. It has scratches on it I put there when I was 26 and didn't know what I was doing yet.

Every piece Beatrice is letting go of — I forged the setting for it. Some of them thirty years ago. I remember the winter I made most of them. Cold shop. Wood stove. Her humming behind me while she sorted stones.

She's ready to let them go. I understand why.

Take care of them.

— Walter