It all began with a single remark from my sister at a craft show. Meredith, my older sibling, once helped me work a fair back in those exhibiting days. My batik eggs drew large crowds, and as demand grew, I raised my prices. But with higher prices came fewer buyers.

Then Meredith made an observation that changed everything. “Jane, I think if people could wear your eggs, they would buy them.” 

Skeptic that I am, I first imagined women with whole eggs dangling from their lobes. I brushed the idea aside. But, as sales slowed, I reconsidered.

Meredith’s astute suggestion launched me on a decade-long adventure I could never have imagined.

I began experimenting with larger eggs – ducks and geese—cutting shapes and reinforcing them with a two-part epoxy filler. I collaborated with a jewelry designer/friend to solve the technical challenges like locating the right findings (pin backs, earring wires, etc.) and how to create gilded finishes for the edges and apply a final surface shine. 

At the very next show, my eggshell pins and earrings were a sellout. Exactly as my sister had predicted, once women could wear my creations, they knew exactly what to do with them and began their collections.

I knew I had a hit. Next on the agenda was letting the world know. Over the next few years my innovative idea took flight:

• My work was photographed for my first brochure
• I got into a wholesale market
• A national catalogue featured my pins and earrings
• Victoria Magazine spotlighted my paisley brooches 

My favorite achievement during my eggshell jewelry making days was a risk I took when I reached out to a packaging designer in Westport, CT. I wanted to affix my signature to the pieces I was making but didn’t know how. Looking through a Fairfield County creative resources directory, I found the name Hilary Bunger.

“Ah, a woman in this field will surely be willing to help a fellow entrepreneur,” I hoped. That intuitive thought gave me the courage to dial her number. When I told the young man (Hilary’s son, it turned out) who answered the phone about my turning Ukrainian-Easter-eggs-into-jewelry pieces, I could feel his enthusiasm.

“Hilary is my father, and he happens to love Ukrainian Easter eggs. Why don’t you come by, meet him, and show him your work?”

Hilary loved my eggs and came up with an elegant solution for signing my designs. He never charged me a dime. 

So why did I stop?

After 30 years of making art from eggshells, the process began to feel complete. The epoxy finishes sometimes wrinkled, which was discouraging. But the deeper truth was that I no longer cared enough to find the fix. I decided that I had said everything I needed to say in ‘eggs.’

Recently, while going through my drawers, I found a box of pieces I’d held onto. About 20 remain, each one carrying the story of that memorable chapter in my life.

And now, I’d like to share them. You can view them here and perhaps claim one as your own page from my story.