Check out, in all their glory, the rings we made for NotWedding couple Brian and Ashley. We can’t wait to see what super cool foto folks Megan Saul, Booth Photographics, and John Dart captured!
See something you like? Head to the gallery to get even more inspiration!
We loved meeting all of the vendors and guests! It was a great cap to a wonderful and productive summer! May autumn go smoothly and nicely for all1
*Well, except for the goldleaf!
We’re so excited to be a part of the 1st Chicago NotWedding, “a bridal show in the form of a big fake wedding” for couples planning to say “I Do!” The fab to-do is next Thursday, but the amazing Megan Saul did a Save The Date shoot with Ashley and Brian, the NotWedding already-married couple. (All the photos below are Megan’s, save the ring and studio shots.)The Bread and Butterfly made Ashley’s beautiful floral headpiece, and Chykalophia the sweet printed cards below.
And us? We made Ashley’s engagement ring!
Here it is up close! The concept for the wedding is “black tie,” and so we wanted to design a ring that united a crisp, modern, glamorous look with our warm natural aesthetic.
For the NotWedding engagement ring, we used salvaged juniper, crushed lava rock, white holly and gold leaf.
We can’t wait for the event, and to show you the wedding bands to match. For more information, check out the NotWedding site.
Like this ring? Want something like it? Head over to the Custom Rings page!
In 1872 Ferdinand J. Herpers patented the prong setting for the Tiffany Company, who had introduced it as the “Tiffany Setting” in 1886.
It is an embrace of a setting, the prongs used in a similar way to how we use the fingers of our hands.
At SWR, we’re always amazed at how different one prong-set ring looks from another. Recently, we’ve moved away from a simple pin-mounted setting. We like to use a prong setting laser-welded to a metal ring inlay. as you’ll see below. We find they’re stronger that way, and quite striking.
rosewood, garnet, patina’d gold<
walnut, client-provided raw diamond
dark bogwood, moissanite, mother of pearl inlay
rosewood, topaz, opal inlay
rosewood and steel, moissanite
Interested in your own prong set wood ring? Get started by filling out our Custom Ring form!
Bogwood, Turquoise, Malachite, Mother of Pearl
This ring puts us in the mind of the summer sea at night, maybe some moonlight passed along the water, and the song “Sea of Love,” by Phil Phillips. Particularly the cover by Cat Power.
Come with me, my love
To the sea, the sea of love
I want to tell you how much I love you
The ocean can feel endless, a circle is endless, life is finite but can be so lovely.
We’re getting a little too philosophical, maybe. It can be a problem around here. We’re aware. We’re working on it. But! Those aren’t tears. That’s just the shore wind kicking up sand.
Okay, we’re fine now. Promise. Just go watch this ridiculous video (for a very different sea/love song) while we put ourselves together.
Then head to the Ring Shop for your own embarrassingly beautiful adornment.
When we think of our bogwood rings, they bring to mind mizzle (mist + drizzle, a real and wonderful word) and mystery: a tree fallen into a peat bog and grown-over centuries ago, not petrified nor decayed, a sort of immortal thing, just beginning to be a fossil.
Our “Young at Heart – Yang” ring.
As one of us said today: it’s easy to write a romantic blog post about bogwood, because bogwood is so romantic!
Indeed, what more do we want of our love than to hold it close, and feel it everlasting? Often in Ireland, bogwood logs — once of oak or pine, yew or cypress — are dredged from their wet climes and placed into piled cairns, meant to mark a trail. Or else a canny harvester looks for the last-left frost across the peat: wherever there is still frost, bogwood can be found below. Being such “new” people in the presence of such an old material makes us feel quite pleasantly agog. To wear such a ring unites us with the earth and everything. The bogwood rings, too, make us misty eyed, and remember the specialness of life, where we are coming from and where we are going, as Italo Calvino writes in Invisible Cities: “The city…does not tell its past, but contains it like the lines of a hand, written in the corners of the streets, the gratings of the windows, the banisters of the steps, the antennae of the lightning rods, the poles of the flags, every segment marked in turn with scratches, indentations, scrolls.”