Happiness on a Platter
What Inspired My First Collection?
It was a long time ago… I was 28, had returned from a year abroad, and after working in nearly every service industry role, I had an urge to return to design. I had completed a four-year design degree before my travels, and on my return home, I was ready to indulge in the world of creativity. One of the things I knew I was good at in my life was this—like, easy good—I can spend hours visualising creating things in my mind and often I find myself losing track of time.
When I completed my degree early in my twenties, I took a detour. I told myself, “I didn’t want to be alone in a studio, working solo like other designers.” So, I wandered into the hospitality world—because, of course, I have a deep attraction to people. I loved the buzz, the energy, the endless swirl of faces. For years, I served, I travelled—Paris, Barcelona, Tokyo—and my design dreams went dormant, tucked between espresso cups and a many nights scribbling on several maps of Europe and my little mini laptop planning where I was going to travel to next.
It wasn’t until I came home to New Zealand—after years of wandering—that I felt a familiar tug. It was quiet but persistent, like a colour I couldn’t name but kept seeing in the corner of my eye. I started small—just a weekend resin workshop, a spark reignited. It was like my hands remembered what my head had forgotten—play, spontaneity, and joy.
So, when I finally sat down to create my first collection, it was pure happiness on a platter. The colours were bold, unapologetic—like a toddler who’s just discovered glitter and decided the whole room needs it. Each piece was a little bit offbeat, a little bit chaotic—and that was exactly the point. This collection exploded my mind. It was like I took a deep breath after years of holding it in—and all I wanted was more.
What I learned from this was simple, but it took a long time to sink in: creativity doesn’t have to be a straight line. It can be a winding path of detours, coffee breaks, and a few years spent serving lattes. And I still ponder this: how many other sparks are waiting in the background—just waiting for me to give them a go?
This collection is my riot of colour—each pair of earrings a tiny rebellion against waiting. And every time I wear them, I remember that messy joy—the moment when I decided to play again. And honestly, now all I can think about is what comes next.