I hopped the train to Philly with my husband Bryan this week and took a stroll into the country’s oldest jewelry district. Mostly populated by diamond dealers and folks that sold traditional gold jewelry, I was pleasantly surprised to find a tool supply shop down a little alley sidestreet.
Shelves and shelves of goodies that only a metal craftsperson would love, Mandrels, drill bits, rolling mills... I began to salivate the minute we walked in the door.
Traveling with my husband, the salesperson automatically approached him in an assumption, completely ignoring my five foot blonde stature.
It happens all the time.
Later it became clear who was actually doing the shopping.
I scored a couple of great bezel mandrels, a new flat file, some earring displays, and a new forging hammer.
And all the while the hustle and bustle of city, behind-the-scenes transactions, in multiple languages, taking place. It is that kind of buzz that gives the craft, and its long history, its romance. Like the vintage polishing machine that is displayed in my gallery, it is a reminder that the art of silversmithing is not a trend, but an art form practiced through the ages.
A trip well worth the train fare.