You'd Think I Could Remember Memory Wire
Pursuant to a previous post, I resolved my problem with wanting to wear multiple bracelets that I could put on AND take off. It's Memory Wire of course. One continuous springy length that looks like many bracelets but wears like one. Loops and loops of lovely beads that wrap on, wind off, don't get tangled and require no closure (for the clasp-challenged like me).
If you've not heard of memory wire, it is a wonderful thing. It's fine stainless steel wire that is cold forged into a spring. It returns to its original shape after being stretched so it is ideal for jewelry that sits close to your body - like chokers and bracelets and rings. It comes in a variety of diameters and finishes and looks sort of like a flaccid slinky. It's easy to use, just don't cut it with your fine jewelry grade wire snips! I speak from personal experience here. It's as hard as well, steel, and will nick the heck out of the cutting edges of your good tools.
Now that I am back at work and using a computer in front of an audience, the benefit of easy on/off is made evident on a daily basis. No more distracting scraping sounds of glass and metal with every keystroke and mouse movement I make.
New problem. These bracelets have become an addiction.
I started with one to wear to a wedding. Opalescent glass chips that went well with my cerulean blue Simpli dress. (Hurray for Canadian made.) There's something great about a lot of the same thing...
Then came a frosty orange number from a group of coordinating Japanese seed beads I've been hanging onto for years.
This one was made on oval memory wire. It thought it made sense that this would be the most comfortable shape to wear because our wrist and forearms are not really round, but in the end I still prefer the conventional circular wire.
Then came a group of three for my sister Hilary's birthday gift. Which I forgot to photograph, but one was similar to this turquoise concoction.
And an oceanic one featuring a gorgeous lampwork bead by Florida glass maker Joyce Horn.
And now I need to buy another bracelet rack.