This is David. I share an office with him. The other day, when he came in, he just looked. . .different. And I could no longer resist getting the scoop on his minimal look.
He keeps things uncomplicated, wearing a surgical steel hoop earring and his platinum wedding band, both bespoke.
Looking at him today, it’s hard to imagine him as a teenager, with multiple ear piercings (and earrings that included dangly parts). Or as a twentysomething, drawing fashion influence from David Bowie and Rod Stewart. That was a time, as he recalls, of long hair, outrageous platform-heeled shoes and boots, and high-waisted pants worn with loud jackets.
Having mostly seen him in standard sculptor/fabricator gear (Carhartts), I have to say, I didn’t see that coming!
We all grow up, or outgrow. David’s look turned towards utilitarian once he began to travel, when his wardrobe, as he says, had to fit into a bag I could carry. . .a guy’s always got to look cool–it’s important!
A silversmith friend made his earring, which is based on a previous sterling hoop that he mysteriously lost: I wore it for 25 years. Then one night I went to bed and it was on. And when I woke up it was gone. I never could find it. It’s bizarre–it just disappeared.
His wedding band has a rough, organic, hammered look, which he says goes well with his personality. It had to be platinum, not gold (the color of which he feels doesn’t suit him). Ten years ago, he and his then wife-to-be had been looking for their bands here in the States and in England. One day, when they were visiting one of his relatives in Bradford-Upon-Avon, they came across a teeny window of a teeny shop located on a teeny backstreet, which turned out to be the shop of jeweler Lee Orton.
The rest, as they say, is history.