Two Years, One Little Shop

This week marks two years since I picked up the keys to 27 Upper Market Place.

I can still picture the moment. Standing outside with a set of keys in my hand, looking at an empty shop and trying to imagine it becoming the home of Claire Howard Jewellery.

It felt exciting. It felt daunting. It also felt wonderfully right.

Two years later, it's hard to imagine being anywhere else.

The workshop bench sits proudly in the window where people stop to watch me solder. The walls are filled with jewellery inspired by Norfolk beaches, gardens and the stories people have shared with me. There have been workshops around the bench with tea, cake and plenty of laughter. Customers have trusted me with commissions to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries and weddings, and sometimes to remember someone they've loved and lost.

I thought I knew what running a jewellery business would be like. After all, I'd already been self-employed for 10 years. What I didn't realise was how different owning a shop would feel.

So, on the second anniversary of collecting those keys, here are five things that still surprise me.

1. I still never know what jewellery to make next.

Every piece in the cabinet represents hours of work and a little leap of faith.

Do I make another pair of Holkham cockle shell earrings because they're popular? Do I spend a day creating something completely new? Should I make another size of bangle, or finish that necklace I've been thinking about?

Sometimes the pieces I think everyone will love sit quietly waiting for their person. Other times, something I'd almost forgotten about disappears within days.

Apparently jewellery has a habit of choosing its owner.

2. Quiet days still make me question everything.

You'd think I'd have grown out of this by now.

A quiet morning can have me wondering whether everyone has suddenly decided they don't like handmade jewellery any more.

Then the bell above the door rings, someone walks in looking for the perfect birthday present, another customer collects a commission, someone books a workshop and suddenly the day takes on a life of its own.

Running a small business can be a funny emotional rollercoaster. Experience tells me quiet days happen. My imagination occasionally needs reminding.

3. The hardest part isn't hearing "no". It's hearing nothing at all.

Someone comes into the shop full of enthusiasm for a commission. We chat about ideas, I work out a quote, send it over...

...and then silence.

I never mind if someone decides it's not quite right or doesn't fit their budget. I'd just rather know. Of course, life gets busy. Priorities change. Jewellery isn't always at the top of the list. I completely understand that, but every now and then I find myself wondering whether the email disappeared into cyberspace!

4. Silver seems to have a personality of its own.

When people admire a finished piece of jewellery, they probably aren't thinking about the price of silver that week.

I am.

The cost of precious metals goes up and down, and keeping prices fair while still making a living is a balancing act that happens quietly behind the scenes. It's one of those parts of the job that nobody really sees, but every independent jeweller understands.

5. I thought I was opening a jewellery shop.

What I actually created was somewhere people come to tell stories. People bring in special necklaces or bracelets with broken bolt rings, they want ideas for birthday presents that are being planned in secret months in advance. Friends spend an afternoon making jewellery together before heading out for dinner. Brides make their jewellery for their bridesmaids and mother and father.

I've realised over the last two years that I'm not simply making jewellery. I'm helping people celebrate, remember, surprise, thank, comfort and connect.The jewellery is often just the beginning of the story.

Two years ago, 27 Upper Market Place was an empty shop waiting for someone to believe in it. Today it's a place full of conversation, creativity, cups of tea, the occasional bit of soldering smoke, and more kindness than I ever imagined.

If you've bought a piece of jewellery, attended a workshop, trusted me with a repair, recommended me to a friend or simply popped in to say hello, thank you, you've helped turn a shop into a home.

And I can't wait to see what stories the next two years will bring.

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