Meet Jo
Traditional Silversmith – Charlestown, Cornwall
my journey to becoming a jeweller
I often get asked how I became a jeweller.
The truth is, I didn’t grow up dreaming of making jewellery. My path here has been anything but straightforward, and looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Before I became a full-time silversmith, I spent over 25 years working with children and young people, many of whom had additional needs. It was a job I cared deeply about and one that taught me lessons I still carry with me every single day.
Eventually, I realised it wasn’t the children I was struggling with.
It was a system that too often expected everyone to fit the same mould.
I’ve never believed that people should be treated that way.
And I still don’t.
There has never been a “one-size-fits-all” approach.
Whether I’m designing a bespoke commission, helping someone redesign a box of inherited jewellery or teaching silversmithing for the very first time, I approach everyone differently.
Because everyone is different.
Some people arrive with pages of sketches.
Others arrive with a tangled bag of jewellery and say,
“I don’t know what to do with any of this.”
Some students can’t wait to pick up a saw.
Others are convinced they’ll never be able to make anything.
There isn’t a right or wrong way to begin.
My job is simply to meet you where you are and help you move forwards with confidence.
Whether you’re thinking about a bespoke commission, redesigning inherited jewellery or learning to make your own jewellery, the process always starts with a conversation.
Jewellery is about people.
People often assume my favourite part of the job is finishing a piece of jewellery.
It isn’t.
It’s the conversation at the beginning.
The stories.
The memories.
The excitement.
The uncertainty.
That’s where the real magic happens.
A wedding ring isn’t just a ring.
An inherited necklace isn’t just gold.
A student’s first silver ring isn’t just an exercise.
Every piece represents something much bigger.
I simply help bring that story to life.
If you’ve inherited jewellery that you never wear, take a look at how I approach jewellery redesigns.
Teaching never really left me
“I’ve never done anything like this before.”
I love hearing that.
Because I know what’s usually coming next.
The smile when something suddenly clicks.
The surprise when they realise they actually can do it.
The quiet confidence that grows over the course of a day.
Watching that happen is every bit as rewarding now as it was when I was teaching.
The classroom may have changed.
The reason I love what I do hasn’t.
If you’re curious about learning, you can find out more about my silversmithing workshops here.
My Studio in charlestown
My workshop is tucked away in Charlestown, on Cornwall’s south coast.
It isn’t a showroom.
It’s a working studio.
There are sketches on the bench.
Silver dust in unexpected places.
Half-finished commissions waiting patiently.
The occasional biscuit.
Usually a kettle on.
It’s a place where ideas become jewellery, where nervous beginners become confident makers and where family heirlooms begin their next chapter.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
What matters to me
There are a few things you’ll hear me say quite often.
I believe jewellery should be worn, not hidden away.
I believe inherited jewellery deserves another chapter.
I believe learning should build confidence, not fear.
I believe the best ideas come from listening.
And I believe that whether you’re spending £60 on a repair or commissioning a bespoke piece to mark one of life’s biggest moments, you deserve exactly the same care, honesty and attention.
Because it’s never really about the jewellery.
It’s about what the jewellery means.
Fancy a cuppa?
If you’ve made it this far, you’ve probably realised that I don’t do things in quite the same way as most jewellers.
Whether you’re thinking about commissioning a piece, redesigning something you’ve inherited or learning a completely new skill, I’d love to hear your story.
The kettle’s usually on.
