Before It Closes Forever: Inside the Studio Where Lydie Anne Crafted for 35 Years

By Rachel Monroe – Senior Writer at The Artisan Journal
Published: May 24, 2025 – Updated: 3 hours ago

“I never imagined my story would reach beyond this room, but if these final pieces can bring someone a little joy—that’s more than I ever hoped for.”
— Lydie Anne

A Farewell Tour of a Life Built by Hand

Tucked behind a lavender hedge and a garden gate in a quiet village just outside the city, sits the ivy-covered studio where Lydie Anne has spent the last 35 years making jewelry by hand. No storefront. No staff. Just one room, a few tools, and a woman who found deep purpose in shaping beauty from simple materials.”

Now, as she prepares to retire at 68, the doors of this little workshop are about to close forever. But before they do, Lydie Anne is inviting us in—for one final look at the space where Lydie Anne Jewelry was born, lived, and now comes to a close.

“It’s not much to look at, I suppose,” she says with a smile, “but this room has held everything I’ve ever made.

A quiet home with a small studio out back, filled with years of making. (Photo: The Artisan Journal)

The Studio Through the Years

The heart of the space is a wide, well-worn wooden table. It’s been there since the very beginning—scratched, stained, and nicked from decades of hammering, filing, wrapping, and soldering. “I’ve ruined more table corners than I care to admit,” Lydie Anne jokes.

“On the wall above the workbench: a faded photo of her younger self, mid-project, hair tied back, a pendant between her fingers. “I think I was twenty-nine in that one,” she says, touching the frame gently. “Still trying to figure out what I was doing. But I knew I loved it.” ”

Light filters through an ivy-framed window. The air smells faintly of silver polish and beeswax. In the corner stands an old cabinet of shallow drawers labeled in Lydie Anne’s careful handwriting: clasps, stones, scraps too nice to toss. A cracked teacup holds loose pearls.

“It’s a small place, but everything I’ve ever made started right here,” she says. “It feels like a part of me lives in the walls.”

CHECK OUT LYDIE'S JEWELRY

Lydie Anne at 26, completely absorbed in her craft — a moment that still hangs where it all began. (Photo: The Artisan Journal)

Notes on the Wall

Near the door, dozens of handwritten cards and notes are pinned in uneven rows. Some are decades old, others freshly taped. All of them were written by customers,friends or family. ”

💌 “Thank you for making something that reminded me of my mother.”
💌 “My daughter wears your necklace every day. It makes her feel close to home.”
💌 “I don’t usually wear jewelry, but this felt different—like it came with a story.”

Lydie Anne reads them with a soft smile. “I never expected anyone to write to me. I just wanted to make things that felt honest,” she says. “But when someone takes the time to tell you how much something meant… it stays with you.”

Pinned to the studio wall, a thank-you note that stayed — a quiet reminder of why Lydie Anne kept making.(Photo: The Artisan Journal)

The Final Collection: One Last Chapter

Now, Lydie Anne’s final pieces are laid out on linen trays beneath the window. A few are old designs she brought back for this last round. Others are new, clean, quiet. Each one was made right here, at this table, in the last few months.

“No assistants. No machines. Just me and my hands,” she says. “I wanted the last ones to feel like the first.”

To mark the occasion, she’s offering the full collection at up to 80% off. Not to clear inventory—but to ensure each piece goes to someone who’ll treasure it.

“I don’t want them sitting in boxes after I’m gone. I want them to be worn. To be loved.”

A photo of Lydie Anne's studio 20 years ago and now. (05/21/2025)(Photo: The Artisan Journal)

The End of Something Rare

This isn’t just the end of a collection. It’s the end of a space—a creative life quietly lived, in a studio where time moved a little slower, and every piece was made with care.

If you’ve ever wished to own something made in a place like this—by someone who truly loved her craft—this is your last chance.”

Because once Lydie Anne turns off the lamp and locks the door, it won’t open again.