A note: Yep, every piece reads fuck, mostly in tiny 3mm script, so it will be your secret, until someone gets close. A few are a more enthusiastic all caps FUCK in 6mm script. If the idea of this turns you off, it’s not for you, and you can carry on with your day. Some of us need this.
Why the Fuck Collection?
Because I’m tired. And so are you. And we all need a little talisman to wear to remember that we aren’t done yet.
Fuck is one of the most expressive words in our language, depending on the words it’s paired with. A lament. A shout of surprise. Of joy. Of rage, of absolute despair. Of passion, of lust. It can be quiet, it can be loud. It can be whatever we want it to be.
I have a tattoo on my left forearm; putain de pluie. I got it in 2012, in New Orleans, after a crushing breakup. Literally, it is French for “whore of rain,” but colloquially, it means “fucking rain.” It’s a phrase that is a more crass “this too shall pass.” The rain always passes. Like everyone else, I have lost a great deal of my optimism and faith in humanity these last ten years. This collection is the only way I could see to finding a little hope again. It’s been three years in the works, thinking, gathering materials. As ICE raged against Minneapolis, a place I lived for over a decade, I knew it had to get underway in the production phase. But my health after a fall down my stairs had other plans, making me pretty much an invalid for about six weeks. And by then, I had to just make money, so I focused on the vintage goods and making pieces in smaller batches that I hoped would sell. With the election looming, I finally got started, and here we are today. Every step along the way littered with fucks.
Today, the midterms. Maybe tomorrow we’ll be a bit more on the path to “fuck yeah,” leaving “are you fucking kidding me?” in the rearview. I hope I hope I hope. <3
Notes on materials:
I used a palette that evokes the colors of the earth, the air and sky, the water. Soft green aventurine, grassy green vesuvianite. Blue ancient roman glass (from a fallen empire). White pearl, coral, opalite and mother of pearl. Deep, earthy, autumn leaf jasper. Bone, both recent coyote and ancient mammoth—only one made it into this part (there will be a part II), a sickle necklace with a long shard of mammoth tusk. I stuck almost entirely to brass and steel; earnest metals, no flash or fortune. The brass stampings all patinaed in a solution of vinegar and salt, cleansing materials that also corrode. Every f u c k hammered in to metal with a purpose.
I tried to balance pieces that were relatively inexpensive, with the more spendy ones, so that this collection is accessible to everyone.
Please let me know if you simply cannot afford a piece, within reason, I will work with you. I want everyone who wants a piece to have one.
