Lutalica Cuff

Lutalica- n. (Definition at bottom of description, this one was long but hit home too hard not to use)

Burnished and Beveled edges, high gloss finisher. Strap is 1/2 inch wide. 7mm eyelets with two jump rings secured on either side. 

Even though this is a tiny cuff, the cost is what it is because of the amount of materials I used and how long it takes to work with tiny jump rings :)

   ⚠️-Everything I make is Made to Order, and exactly to the buyers measurements. PLEASE SEND MEASUREMENTS UPON PURCHASE. If you're not able/comfortable measuring yourself, that's okay just let me know! I have options!-⚠️

 Lutalica- n.

"The part of your identity that doesn't fit into categories. You tell the world who you are in a million different ways. Some are subtle, some are not. But it doesn't seem to matter; this world has already got you pegged. When you were born, they put you in a little box, and slapped a label on it. So they could keep things organized, and not have to think about what's inside-

Over time you learn to make yourself comfortable packaging your identity in different combinations until you feel like you belong, and can wear your labels proudly.

But there's a part of you that never really found a home rattling around in categories that couldn't do you justice.

You look around at other people, trying to judge how loosely they fit in their own lives sensing a knot of confusion hidden beneath a name tag.

And you realize we're still only strangers, who already know what the other is going to say, as if the only thing left to talk about is who belongs in what category and which labels are offensive.

You have to wonder if these boxes are falling apart.

If we should be writing our identities by hand, speaking only for ourselves, in our own words.

Taking our chances out in the open and meet each other as we are, asking: "What is it like being you?"-and be brave enough to admit that we don't already know the answer.

Maybe it'll mean that we've finally arrived, just "unpacking the boxes" making ourselves at home.

And maybe we'll look back and wonder how we managed to live in the same house for so long, and never stop to introduce ourselves." ~ Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows