About
Nadia is a goldsmith and visual artist who crafts jewellery with soul—bold, sculptural pieces that feel like modern relics pulled from the ruins of ancient worlds. With a BFA from the University of Waterloo and a background in painting, drawing, and classical studies, her work is steeped in the stories, symbols, and aesthetics of lost civilizations.
She refined her craft at George Brown College’s Jewellery Arts program, graduating with honours and an obsession for turning metal and stone into something mythic. After over a decade in the fine jewellery industry, Nadia stepped beyond tradition, forging a collection that speaks louder—jewellery that holds strength, intention, and a little bit of magic.
Her designs start with stones that carry presence—inky spinels, stormy sapphires, blood-red garnets, and diamonds that glint like frozen light. Every gem is chosen for its energy, not just its polish. Set in angular, dramatic forms, her jewellery feels like armour, amulet, and art—all at once. Her creations are like ancient talismans–relics of forgotten queens, kings and sorcerers.
Inspired by the opulence of the Egyptians, the raw beauty of the Romans, the mysticism of the Persians, and the golden decadence of pre-Columbian empires, Nadia’s pieces are made for those who move through the world with presence. This isn’t quiet jewellery. It’s for the ones who lead with boldness, carry history in their bones, and aren’t afraid to take up space.
"I’ve always been drawn to the echoes of ancient worlds—civilizations that rose, flourished, and vanished, leaving behind fragments of beauty and power.
Their stories, symbols, and art feel like whispers from something eternal.
Colour has always been a portal for me—deep lapis, blood-red ochres, the gilded glow of ancient jewellery. The pigments they used, the metals they shaped, and the places they lived all speak a language I instinctively understand. Even now, flowers bloom in forgotten temples, vines wrap around crumbling stone, and the earth slowly reclaims what once gleamed with gold.
As a child, I was captivated by ancient Egypt, Rome, Greece, and the empires of the Aztecs and Incas. Their monuments weren’t just structures—they were acts of devotion, carved, painted, and adorned with purpose. They did not just wear jewellery, it was sacred. It was treasure."
"That fascination never left me.
I remember digging through my great-grandmother’s jewellery box, searching for pieces that felt old, worn, and alive. My mother told me those marks were from years of love—that they were cherished. I understood that immediately.
Perfection has never interested me. I leave the marks of my tools—hammer strokes, raw textures, subtle asymmetries—like inscriptions of the process. I choose stones for their presence, not just their sparkle: moody hues, inner fire, fractured light. I start with the gems and let them lead, like puzzle pieces revealing their own story.
I like to think that one day, someone will find one of my pieces in a jewellery box, feel its weight, its soul, and know—this is a treasure. It was meant to be found."
