Hello, dear Readers. Welp, it appears I must scrape the egg off my face. I’m doing it again.
As you may recall, in September I issued an all-points bulletin about my new business identity, RC Studio Jewelry. In my announcement, I proclaimed that my previous name, Uncommon Threads Jewelry, no longer fit the brand I have built for the past 35 years. After all, a lot has changed since 1991!
For one thing, there was no internet back in the day when I started my company. Communication with both store accounts and retail customers took place primarily face-to-face at gift shows and art fairs. Beyond that, we spoke on the phone and even- gasp! - sent color postcards to announce where customers could find our work. The name Uncommon Threads matched my primary design focus- hand-crocheted jewelry in precious metals- and told a bit of my story as a designer. It also allowed me to hold on to my dream of someday adding fabric-based products- hand-crocheted or dyed scarves, clothing, or home products- to my brand. More threads, so to speak.
As the digital age dawned, I went “virtual,” hiring a talented friend to create my branded website. Unfortunately, the name “Uncommon Threads” was already in use- by a chef clothing company, of all things! Not that they weren’t cute, but I’ll admit I was disappointed that the guy printing hot chilies on his aprons had gotten to my name before I did. Insert sad face here.
Nevertheless, we regrouped by adding “jewelry” to the end of my brand name online, and Uncommon Threads Jewelry was live, worldwide! To accompany the site, we added a branded email address: randi@uncommonthreadsjewelry.com.
Ah, yes. I saw the challenge, and I’ve been living with it ever since. Offering customers my web URL or email address became a long procedure that involved repeated spelling and use of military description. “N as in Nancy, C as in Catatonic…” Eegad. Even more compromising, adding “jewelry” to the name made my dream of expansion feel even more unattainable.
For two decades I survived this way. Then one day last summer, I had an idea: “Eureka!” I exclaimed to myself. “I can rebrand my company!”
This, I reasoned, would allow me to claim my identity as a metalsmith, shorten the brand name for convenience, and finally let go of my fantasy of designing fabric-related products. After so many years, they just didn’t seem to be in the cards for me. I should just accept it and stop trying. I began searching “RC Studio” through my website host. Bingo! It appeared to be available as a new website handle. What luck!
I quickly flew pell-mell into designing a new logo and website. A swirl of paint became my new visual element, reaffirming my embrace of the art of metalsmithing. I added rich, rusty surfaces to my site visuals to convey my love of textured metal. I envisioned broadening the appeal of my jewelry through the new name, plus announcing my commitment to a charity doing important work, the Epilepsy Foundation of Missouri & Kansas. In the same fell swoop, I could educate audiences about my access to ethically mined gemstones, a new understanding. In my heady enthusiasm, I refused to admit to myself that I was also giving something up: a thread of my own identity.
We can always count on the Universe to show us what we need to see. After adopting the new brand identity, a series of revelations made themselves known. It turned out that despite my search, “RC Studio” was not available for my website handle. I would have to add “Jewelry” once again. Oh, boy.
Next, I attended a women-in-business summit with a dear friend. There, it became clear that communicating my new brand identity was just as challenging as spelling out my previous one. I discovered that, under the new name, I had fewer opportunities to share my backstory, the connection to my grandma that got me started as an artist in the first place.
After the summit, I spoke with another dear friend who artfully teased it out of me that I was not entirely happy with my brand identity change. We were sitting side-by side at a holiday pop-up shop at the time. My friend was showing her precious metal jewelry, finely wrought pieces with secret codes spelled out by gemstones. I was showing mine, pieces in precious metal, gemstones, wood, flameworked glass beads, and… fabric. I showed a dress, some t-shirts, cotton bandanas, and silk scarves dyed using my favorite Japanese tie-dye techniques, pieces I had made without thinking about market placement or brand identity.
At the same pop-up, I ran into several previous customers. They liked the new name, they said, but they had loved the previous one. Uncommon Threads was memorable, they told me, and many of them missed the story of my grandmother and me held within the prior name. Hmm…
It had meant so much to me to make the change. Now that I had, it felt like it belonged to someone else. Why hadn’t it clicked?
Sometimes, you need to break something to see what it’s really made of. I changed my brand because I felt self-conscious about the long name. The new name caused exactly the same trouble, and didn’t leave room for the brand story, the real threads that tie me to Grandma Ann. I changed it because I wanted to bring new ideas to the table- new techniques, a charitable commitment, and deliberate ethical sourcing. In truth, those values are part of me and will show up in anything I produce. And I changed my brand because I thought it was time to give up my dream of working in other media.
Surprisingly, letting it all go brought it all closer.
So, if you’ll bear with me one more time, I invite you to experience my new brand, Uncommon Threads Studio. I make jewelry and… whatever else I think might inspire YOU.
I hope you’ll agree that what I bring to the table, the customer, the client, and the marketplace is my artistic viewpoint, even if not everything I make is crocheted metal.
I have all sorts of ideas I have yet to explore in metal, fabric, and who-knows-what other materials. Whether or not they’ll ever see the light of day? Well… we’ll just have to see. My new logo? Not sure about that yet. Visual identity is a whole other thing. I’m open to ideas!
In future, you can find me, Randi Chervitz, the artist, at my brand, Uncommon Threads Studio. I hope you’ll stick around to see what happens next.