There’s no branding on his silver and gold vermeil necklaces, charms and rings, which is deliberate: Ricoeur wants to maintain the idea that this is “a passion project—it’s not being made for commercial considerations. I want the jewelry to be what it is, not sugarcoat it into something else—just to do it all organically.” That’s precisely the appeal of Ricoeur’s work: It feels super personal and intrinsic to who he is; it’s almost talismanic, and it has a timeless, ageless and genderless quality that’s special.
Now Ricoeur’s tapping into another kind of power—astrology—with a horoscope-inspired range of signs charms, with representations of the twelve symbols. He’s mindful that he’s treading on familiar territory, and understands the importance of telling the story of each of the signs in a way that relies on a thoughtful gesture of line without being reductive. “I want to do it my way,” he says. “I want every sign to be representative of the way I see it—I’m always asking my friends, ‘What’s it like to be your sign?’” (Design-wise, he says, Virgo, with its traditional representation as a maiden, was the most challenging—grappling with how one could make that work however you identified your gender. Also rather tricky to design was Scorpio. Hmm, need we say more?)
Ricoeur’s interest in astrology sprang from his gloriously free-spirited and hippified upbringing on his parent’s farm—no running water, no electricity—where his mom used to read his chart. His own sign, he thinks, comes into play with the duality of his life now, being a double Gemini: Gemini sun, Gemini rising. “There’s a lot of storytelling about my sign,” he says, “and it’s really kind of who I am: very versatile and able to adapt to any kind of environment.”