Updated: May 1
In an age defined by acceleration—of trends, of consumption, of images—the truly timeless feels almost radical. It doesn’t demand attention. It earns quiet reverence.
Over the past year, I’ve been immersed in studying design across disciplines—architecture, furniture, fashion—and how each reveals a shared pursuit of intention, substance, and lasting form. Since visiting Paris in January, I’ve found myself drawn to its modernist architecture. That curiosity led me down a path of discovery, exploring the work of visionary architects and designers beyond the shadow of Le Corbusier.
Certain works contain a rare permanence. You see it in the radical geometry of Jean Renaudie, whose angular housing projects stood in defiance of the sterile uniformity of post-war modernism. Unlike mass-produced buildings, Renaudie designed homes where no two apartments were the same—an architectural philosophy rooted in honoring the individuality of human lives. You find it too in the layered urban complexity of René Gailhoustet, whose housing structures offer an asymmetrical, unapologetically human counterpoint to the sleek polish of contemporary trends. These buildings do not chase time—they sit apart from it, inviting quiet reflection. And in the furniture of Hervé Baley, I see the same ethos. His pieces—rare, sculptural, uncompromising—feel more like spatial studies than mere objects. Their enduring power lies in their restraint. They are built to last, because they were never designed to impress.
In fashion, Martin Margiela embodies these ideals. His radical deconstruction of classic garments—exposing seams, inverting linings—was never about spectacle. It was about truth. He challenged convention by refusing celebrity, by letting the work speak for itself. His muses were real people. His garments endure—not just materially, but ideologically. I could write an entire newsletter on Margiela alone—and one day, I will.
At NP, these references live close to my process. They remind me that the most meaningful forms are born from clarity—not trend. I believe fine jewelry should carry the same quiet conviction. Each piece is not designed merely to be seen, but to be felt—today, ten years from now, and far beyond.
From noble materials to deliberate gestures, every curve and setting is crafted by hand—shaped by heritage and guided by the human touch. Never rushed. Never outsourced to time.
Because timelessness is not nostalgia. It is intention. It is making something real in a world that too often forgets to notice what matters.
Like a building that resists flattening, or a jacket that reveals its inner truth, our jewelry isn’t made to follow.
It’s made to endure.
-Natalia
SPOTLIGHT: The Laurel Ring
This month, I want to highlight one of my favorite pieces: The Laurel Ring. To me, it embodies that elusive quality of timelessness.
The design is bold—anchored in strong, sculptural lines that feel both angular and softly rounded. It draws inspiration from enduring architectural forms: weighty, intentional, unapologetically present.
I designed it for people like me—those who prefer a few statement pieces that do the talking. But if you're a maximalist, it layers beautifully. Stack it. Mix it. Let it speak in your language.
The Laurel has a substantial weight in the hand and on the body. It's meant to stand out—and more importantly, to stay.
