One of the most popular lockets we offer is The Evelyn in gold and silver. It's named after my Grandma Evelyn, here's a bit about her from the locket pages:

"The Evelyn Locket is named after our maternal Grandma. She was a mother of ten kids, raised them all on a farm in the Minnesota River Valley with our Grandpa Norbert. We remember her Sunday pork roasts, the way she rocked in her chair, her scent, her rhythm in the kitchen, her laugh, her smile, the way she never minded when all 35 of her grandkids would jokingly vie to be her favorite. Though she'd never give in. An iconic, strong, sturdy woman from what feels like a time long gone. It's the perfect namesake locket for our Grandma Evelyn."

Last spring this design sold out, and adding it back for you became a challenge. The gentleman who hand-etched each locket retired, and it's a skill that - much like all the trades nowadays - is hard to find, let alone duplicate as an art. 

After months of working to find and/or train someone new with this specific talent, we tried the design with laser-etching rather than hand-etching, and were pleasantly surprised at the results! The lines a little more distinct, a little wider, a little deeper, but still so textured and gorgeous on this larger statement piece of jewelry. 

I don't actually remember my Grandma Evelyn wearing jewelry, maybe she did, my memories focus more on her presence, her food, the smell of her home, the feel of her kitchen and the home-cooked roasts and potatoes and cooked carrots that I hated eating. The sodas on the stairs going down to the basement. The carpeted stairs going to the second level. The park across the street where we became friends with the local kids who lived in that small town of 500 and gave us a free-range-childhood education each time we visited her home. We'd spend hours and hours at the swimming pool up the street, walk to get elephant ears from the bakery, take the afternoon to get her groceries from the grocer two blocks away. There was a crab-apple tree in the backyard and I remember feeling alarmed at how we weren't supposed to eat them but also we could? I still don't understand it. We lined up like sardines on the floor in front of the TV, my cousins and siblings and I, and watched movies. She had one of those chairs that lifted her to stand up, and an apron she wore when she was in the kitchen. 

My Grandma Evelyn didn't need to wear jewelry, she didn't need to make statements beyond the way she lived her live, it was distinct enough, her family tree so large and ever-growing. Her chuckle - I can still hear it - clothes that would hang out to dry in the backyard, the brick home, the car, the tiny tiny garage, the pies, the ice cream cones with rotating scoops of vanilla and chocolate syrup prepared by my grandfather. 

The formalities. The shoes. The skirts, the coats, the blouses, the perfumes, the coiffed hair. The "Hello I'm Mrs. Norbert Walter" as tho she doesn't have a first name of her own and the lack of interest in my shock at the dismissal of her own first name. 

My Grandma Evelyn was a solid, strong, sturdy foundation. She was a farmer's wife, and but for the terrible name that erases the fact that she was essentially COO and HR Director of the organization that was her home - after all, she had TEN KIDS! Ten kids, you guys - but if she did, it would have ben something classic, like this namesake piece of jewelry we have in her honor.

Xx,

Alllyssa