The Heart Behind Orétoille

When people ask me why I chose jewelry, I often smile, because for me it never felt like a choice. Jewelry has always been there — not as decoration, but as a quiet language I understood instinctively.

Every morning in my little workshop begins in silence. The light moves slowly across my desk, catching on silver tools and scattering across gemstones that rest in their trays. I like to start the day simply: a cup of coffee, the weight of metal in my hands, the small ritual of arranging stones until one of them “speaks.” This rhythm is my anchor — slow, intentional, almost meditative.

To me, jewelry is not about trends or seasons. It is about presence. Each piece begins with a feeling — not an object. Sometimes it’s the hush of early morning, sometimes the last flicker of evening light. Other times it’s a memory: laughter at a dinner table, the way a loved one reached for my hand, the scent of a rose in summer. These fragile, fleeting things are what I try to hold inside gold and silver.

When I pick up a stone, I don’t just see a color. I see moods and emotions.

• A sapphire feels like twilight — deep, calm, infinite.

• Rose quartz carries the tenderness of dawn.

• An opal is like a secret sky, always shifting, never fully revealed.
  Working with them is a dialogue. I may shape the metal, but the stone always shapes the story.

I am equally drawn to silver and gold. Silver, to me, is like moonlight — luminous, gentle, and close to everyday life. Gold is the warmth of permanence — something to treasure forever. In my collections, they often meet. I believe life is both: fleeting and eternal, delicate and enduring. Jewelry should reflect that balance.

My inspiration rarely comes from grand gestures. Instead, it is hidden in details that many overlook — the curve of a branch, the texture of weathered stone, the rhythm of waves. These small, almost invisible moments remind me that beauty is everywhere, waiting to be noticed. That is what I want my jewelry to do: to capture the unnoticed, to make it last.

Crafting slowly is important to me. I don’t design hundreds of pieces at once. I prefer to create in small chapters, like pages of a diary. Each design carries its own atmosphere, its own whisper of memory. Sometimes it feels as if the piece has been waiting for someone all along — my role is simply to reveal it.

When you wear jewelry, it becomes more than metal and stone. It carries your warmth, your gestures, your story. It absorbs moments — celebrations, travels, quiet afternoons — until it becomes inseparable from who you are. That intimacy is what I love most: jewelry that feels not new, but familiar, as if it already belonged to you before you even found it.

Orétoille means golden star — a name chosen because it holds everything I believe in: light, beauty, and the poetry of slowing down. Each piece I make is my attempt to hold a fragment of light, a fragment of memory, and turn it into something you can carry with you.

Thank you for stepping into my world. This journey is not only mine — it becomes ours when my jewelry finds its way into your life. I hope that when you choose a piece from Orétoille, it feels like more than an accessory. I hope it feels like a companion, a keeper of stories, a little spark of magic that was waiting for you all along.

— With warmth,
Lilya