About Obla
Origin
Connection
Discernment
Devotion

I spent my career inside the luxury industry, shaping how I see value.

Working in finance for some of the largest houses within LVMH has definitely shaped how I understand value. Not only through materials and craftsmanship, but through storytelling, perception and time.

I was working in fashion so jewellery remained strangely opaque to me and diamonds is what felt particularly misunderstood. They were presented as the ultimate luxury, yet rarely distinguished between the beautiful and the truly exceptional. Their journey into existence is always extraordinary, but not every diamond belongs in the same category.

I started asking questions and that is kind of what led me here. I found myself drawn into one of the oldest trades, one that resisted a lot of the modern shortcuts. It is still very oldschool and much of it still runs purely on relationships, trust and quiet gatekeeping. You need to know someone who knows someone, or earn an introduction. It remains one of the few industries where trust is still earned slowly.

Over the past years, I have attended multiple trade shows, spoke to suppliers in all biggest jewellery hubs in the world and finished my diamond education at GIA. I have tested different qualities, designs and finally found the one I am proud to share with others. I am still learning, but I understand this trade’s pace, its discretion and the importance of knowing who to trust.

Somewhere in that process, I rediscovered a creative part of myself that had been dormant during my years in finance. The scepticism remains, but it has softened. I understand that what makes something special is not always measurable, yet it is unmistakable.

Obla grew from that understanding.

I see jewellery as both expression and intimacy.

I grew up in a country where jewellery often accompanies life’s milestones. Pieces are given at birth, baptisms, communions and other family traditions. It is less about religion and more about marking moments and carrying them forward.

I have worn the same diamond and gold earrings since childhood, along with the same necklace and bracelet. Jewellery was something you kept and grew used to over time.

Today I see jewellery as both expression and intimacy. A piece can hold meaning known only to the person wearing it — a promise, a memory, a decision.

Sometimes it carries a story. Sometimes it simply reflects who you were at a particular moment of time. The meaning can remain constant, or it can evolve as you do.

There is a quiet freedom in that. No one else needs to understand it and it is something you carry close to your body and even closer to yourself. A small secret that moves with you through life. Over time, it can gather memories and becomes familiar in a way few objects ever do.

Objects that remain with us this closely, for years and often whole lives, deserve to be chosen with care, for their quality, their meaning and the consideration behind how they were made.

All diamonds are extraordinary but not all diamonds are rare.

Learning about diamonds from a scientific perspective changed how I saw them. It fascinates me how improbable their existence is and how their formation is a sequence of rare gemological events.

All diamonds are extraordinary but not all diamonds are rare. Yet, in the jewellery industry, rarity is often presented as universal. The language surrounding diamonds encourages the belief that distinction is inherent. In reality, true distinction lives in knowledge and in understanding how a stone formed and recognising the subtle characteristics that give it individuality.

I often compare diamonds to wine or art. Only those who notice the subtleties can distinguish what is good from what is truly exceptional.

I cannot accept placing every stone in the same category, nor viewing them solely through certificates or status. Nor do I relate to the quiet snobbery that can surround them.

My obsession is not only with diamonds but also with doing things properly. Taking the time to refine a process, perfect a detail and ensure every element is considered. In other words, not rushing what deserves patience.

To me, quality is effort and obsession.

Obsession is what drives you in pursuit of getting something exactly right and effort is how many failed attempts it takes, redoing the same thing again and again because you know it can be better.

Quality also means choosing the right hands. This is something that took me the longest to get right and I now have a tiny circle of people I trust to bring my vision to life, here locally in London, who care about the final outcome just as much as I do.

I refuse to compromise, because I would be embarrassed to offer anything less. We live in a time that rewards speed, volume and efficiency, even in luxury. Obla chooses to create slowly, in very limited quantities, for those who see patience as value rather than inconvenience.

I value efficiency and thoughtful systems, and I am not making things slower for the sake of it. But I understand what quality requires, and in this craft it often requires time. The goal is to create pieces people trust enough to wear for the rest of their lives.

Obla is for those who notice the little things and for those who choose slowly and keep forever.

I hope to build a community of curious, aware individuals and a brand grounded in values that endure. If, in ten years, Obla has grown without compromise and encouraged even a small shift toward more thoughtful consumption, I will be proud.