How i got goldie as a client

I found out that Goldie was opening an art gallery about 500 metres from my office.

I saw the opening date posted online and decided I was going to be there first thing in the morning. Before it got busy. Before there was any reason for someone like Goldie to stop and talk to someone like me.

I turned up early and walked in to find him in the middle of setting everything up. Paintings being moved, lighting being adjusted, the quiet chaos that comes with the hours before an opening. He was in the thick of it.

I introduced myself. Told him what I do, that I run a jewellery factory in Bangkok, that we manufacture for brands all over the world, that we can make pretty much anything from metal.

He stopped what he was doing.

He told me he'd been trying for years to get jewellery made properly. Finding a manufacturer who understood what he was going for, who could take his designs and actually turn them into something real, had been a constant frustration. Nobody had been able to give him what he needed.

We stood there in the middle of his gallery while his team worked around us and talked about what we could build together.

Before I left that morning I asked him to sketch out some of his ideas. He sat down right there and drew them out by hand — rough sketches of shapes, details, the kind of marks that only make sense to the person who drew them. I took those sketches back to the factory with me.

I still have them today.

There's something about holding onto those original drawings that means a lot to me. Everything we've built together since started on those pages. Seven years of collections, and it all traces back to a few pencil marks drawn in a gallery that hadn't even officially opened yet.

We started with two rings. That was seven years ago. Since then we've put out four to five collections every year together without fail. After this long we don't need many words to get to where we're going. He knows what he wants and I know how to build it.

Goldie has become a dear friend. That part I didn't plan for but it's the part I value most.

The lesson from that morning is simple. I saw the post, I knew the gallery was close, I showed up early. No cold email, no introduction through someone else, no pitch deck. I walked through the door at the right time and introduced myself.

Most opportunities don't make a lot of noise. They show up quietly — a post on Instagram, a gallery opening down the road. The people who catch them are the ones paying attention.

Seven years of collections started because I left the office early one morning and asked a man to draw me a sketch.