Moonlit Lapis, by Caprilicious

Hello everyone, how are you today? At last the sun has come out to play and spring, appears to have comprehensively sprung! Not before I got disheartened and booked an expensive holiday in Spain for later on in the year. When life gets dreary, with the constant wet and cold weather, we watch travel programs and movies set in blinding sunshine to remind ourselves that such places do exist. And then it's a short stop from opening up that wallet and dropping vast sums of money on the most beautiful hotel you can find in the sunniest country you can think of.

And in the meantime, there are always beads!
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Some stones perform. Lapis lazuli doesn’t.
It doesn’t glitter for attention or try to win you over in the first five seconds. Instead, it plays the long game. You glance at it, think “that’s nice,” and then find yourself still looking at it ten minutes later, slightly puzzled as to why. The answer, of course, is those tiny flecks of pyrite. Little gold interruptions in all that blue, like the universe couldn’t resist adding a bit of drama after all.

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​The lapis in Moonlit Lapis comes from Rajasthan, and I didn’t choose neat, obedient beads. I never do. These are faceted but irregular, with edges and quirks and the occasional refusal to line up politely. When you’re painting with beads, that’s exactly what you want. Too much perfection and the whole thing goes a bit… flat. Like a dinner party where everyone agrees.

Now, if you’ve been following along for a while, you might recognise these beads. Yes, these are from that slightly ridiculous, entirely joyful shopping episode in Jaipur about ten years ago, immortalised in my Bootylicious blog post. Back when restraint was clearly not invited to the party and I returned with enough beads to open a small but respectable emporium.

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There’s something rather satisfying about finally using them. It’s a bit like rediscovering a forgotten silk scarf at the back of a drawer and realising it was fabulous all along. These lapis beads have been sitting patiently, waiting for the right moment, and apparently that moment took a decade—all good things, etc.

​To bring some structure to the piece, I paired the lapis with silver-toned beads sourced from Vietnam. They have this intricate, almost architectural detailing, like tiny domed ceilings or fragments of something ancient and well made. They stop the necklace from drifting off into pure bohemian abandon and give it a bit of backbone.

​Then came the warm wooden accent beads. A necessary intervention. Without them, the whole piece risked becoming a little too cool, a little too serious. Beautiful, yes, but slightly aloof. The warmth brings it back down to earth, like a well-timed joke in an otherwise intense conversation.

The finished necklace feels calm, but not boring. Considered, but not overthought. It has that quiet, self-assured presence that doesn’t need to announce itself. You put it on, and somehow everything else looks more intentional, as though you planned the outfit rather than just… arrived in it.
The name Moonlit Lapis came easily in the end. It has that same quality of low, steady glow. Not the harsh spotlight, more the kind of light that flatters everything and asks for nothing in return.

And perhaps that’s the real charm of it. Ten years after a slightly overenthusiastic bead-buying spree in Jaipur, these stones have finally found their place. Proof, if ever it were needed, that in jewellery as in life, nothing good is ever truly wasted. It just waits. Quietly. Patiently. Probably judging me a little for being a hoarder, not willing to part with beautiful beads, or for being lazy, for not making them into a necklace earlier.

That's me for this week, folks. Have a wonderful weekend and I'll catch you soon.
Until then
​xx