We recently connected with Nadia Werchola and have shared our conversation below.

Nadia, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Did you always know you wanted to pursue a creative or artistic career? When did you first know?

To be perfectly honest, I think I always knew — even if I didn’t know what that would look like yet. For as long as I can remember, I was drawing, painting, and making things. I just didn’t know how to translate that into real life.

I went to university and studied Fine Arts, earning a bachelor’s degree with a studio specialization, but when I graduated I felt stuck. It seemed that I had two choices: teach, or try to exist as a visual artist. Neither option felt right. So I did what a lot of people do when they’re unsure — I took a year off and worked, giving myself time to figure things out.

That year changed everything. I stumbled across a beginner goldsmithing night class offered through a local college, taught not in a school, but in the instructor’s basement. From the very first class, things just seemed right. It felt immediate, an instinct — like I had finally found the thing my hands had been waiting for. My teacher saw my potential right away and encouraged me to take it seriously, to get more training.

We looked at a few options, including Georgian College, but I landed at George Brown in Toronto. Which is funny, because I wanted to go there straight out of high school and was talked into going to university instead. Fast forward a few years (and a lot of schooling later), and I joke that I could’ve been a doctor by now. In the end, it all somehow brought me right back to where I was meant to be.

It’s funny, I was never into sculpture in university — I didn’t even take it. And here I am, making these tiny sculptures that people wear every day. Jewellery turned out to be the sweet spot between everything I love: beauty, function, and often, a really great story. I love metal. I love gemstones. I love the quiet, slightly obsessive focus of being at the bench, and knowing that something I make gets to be worn and loved for years, maybe a lifetime — maybe even long enough to be passed down.

Now that I’m here, I don’t think I was meant for anything else.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

I’m a jewellery designer and goldsmith based in Toronto, working mostly in custom engagement and wedding pieces. I also have a rather large collection of ready-to-wear jewellery available in boutiques across Canada (and on my own website). I work with almost every gemstone under the sun and with metals from gold and platinum to sterling silver and brass. I design everything myself and do the majority of the actual “making” with my own hands. I carve many of the wax models, polish metal and set a lot of my stones. For me, this is exceptionally important in a world where most things are mass produced. I didn’t start this career as a business — it started almost by accident, a natural progression, a need to create objects that carry beauty, meaning, and a little bit of magic.

I came to jewellery through visual art. Drawing, painting and printmaking trained my eye long before metals and gems ever entered the picture. My love of colour transformed from paints and pencils to gemstones. Eventually, I trained as a goldsmith at George Brown College in Toronto, fell in love with the materials, and devoted myself fully to my craft.

Colour has always held a particular fascination for me; gemstones are the first thing I reach for when designing a piece. Colour and gemstones play the most significant role in my work. Whether it’s the glow of a sapphire, the deep pulse of a ruby, or the unique fingerprint in a salt and pepper diamond, colour gives each piece its magic, its vibe.

Beyond colour, I’m endlessly inspired by the stories objects carry — the ancient jewellery of past civilizations, the architecture of old buildings, the intricate lines and curves that tell a story without words. I love how jewellery can be a vessel for history, memory, and stories, condensed into something small enough to hold in your hand. My work is often inspired by the ancient and often described as looking like an antique. Jewellery, for me, is the most intimate way to capture a story or a feeling you can carry with you.

Most of my work is custom. People come to me at moments that matter — engagements, weddings, anniversaries, milestones where symbolism truly carries weight. My role is part designer, part translator. Often my clients know how they want something to feel, but not yet the form, the scale, the language. I help shape that feeling into a piece that fits their life, their hands, their story. I make jewellery meant to be worn, lived in, loved — pieces that balance strength, comfort, and beauty, and that will quietly endure through years, even decades to become heirlooms.

What sets my work apart is that it is not traditional. People come to me because they don’t want something the same as everyone else. My pieces aren’t quiet. They don’t fade into the background. They are anything but neutral. Each design starts with a gemstone that carries presence. Each stone matched with others to create dramatic forms that feel like armour, amulet, and art—all at once.

My 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 care deeply about how a ring sits on the hand, how it wears over time, how it feels at year ten, or thirty. My aesthetic is bold but considered — sculptural, moody, old-world; like a treasure waiting to be found. There’s romance here, yes, but it’s grounded. Nothing fragile just for prettiness. Everything is durable. And yet, there is a subtle magic in the way these pieces inhabit a life, carrying memory and meaning.

I’m especially proud of the trust my clients place in me. Many arrive feeling overwhelmed — by the jewellery industry, by pressure, by the sense that engagement rings must follow a rigid script. My studio is a calm, collaborative space. I have no assumptions about what love is “supposed” to look like or what your jewellery is “supposed” to look like for that matter. Just honest conversation, quiet attention, and thoughtful design.

For anyone discovering my work for the first time, I want you to know this: every piece is made with intention. Jewellery should feel personal, wearable, quietly powerful. These aren’t costumes or status symbols — they’re companions. Objects that grow with you. Objects that gather stories. Objects that, in their own way, hold a little magic.
If there’s a thread running through everything I make, it’s this: a ring is never just a ring. My job is to make sure it feels like it belongs — to your hand, your life, and your story.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

I think one of the most important things I’ve had to unlearn as a creative is that criticism is bad.

It’s hard not to take things personally when your work is essentially an extension of yourself. Hearing negative feedback can sting. But some of the most meaningful turning points in my career have come from what, at first, felt like criticism. Let me explain:

A few years ago, I was hoping to get my work into another consignment shop. After meeting the owner in person at an event, I followed up to see if they were interested. Their feedback was short and blunt: my work didn’t fit the vibe they were looking for because it was too dark and moody for their clients. My first reaction was… disappointment, lets be honest. It felt like a rejection.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this small, honest statement summed up exactly what my work is. Dark and moody — yes. But also distinct and personal. “Dark and Moody” is actually what distinguishes me from the vast majority of other jewellers. That one sentence became a turning point. Instead of trying to fit my work into a box that I thought I should, I decided to lean into it.

I changed my website. I changed how I photographed my pieces. I changed my branding. I embraced who I am as an artist and how I wanted to show my work to the world.

I don’t think this person intended their comment as a criticism at all. They were simply being honest. And I am endlessly grateful for it. That small moment of feedback allowed me to grow, to experiment, and to find my people — the clients who truly connect with my aesthetic. I now fully understand that my work is not for everyone, and that’s okay. It’s far more rewarding to create the work I want, the work that feels true to me, than to limit myself trying to please others.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

For me, the most rewarding part of being an artist is seeing my work find its people — the lives it becomes a part of. Jewellery is so personal; it’s carried, worn, touched, lived with, quietly gathering stories over time. To see something I’ve made becoming part of someone else’s story, holding memory, emotion, even a little magic, is incredibly powerful.

There’s also something quietly magical about the process itself. Sitting at the bench, working with metal and gemstones, shaping something from nothing — it’s a quiet, almost hypnotic focus, a rhythm that pulls me in and makes the rest of the world fade away.

And I’ll admit, there’s a special kind of joy in fully embracing who I am as an artist — in leaning into the dark, moody energy of my work — and realizing that it resonates with others. That feeling of trusting my own vision, of creating without compromise, and then watching a piece quietly find its place in someone else’s life… that’s the part of this work that always feels like magic.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.nadiawjewellery.com
• Instagram: @nadiawjewellery
• Facebook: Nadia Werchola Jewellery

Image Credits

Erin Hurst
Maren Precious-Precious Jewelry Photography
August Media