I design the shape.
You decide
what it holds.

My sister told me something a few years ago that I’ve never been able to forget.

She said she only wears jewelry that means something. A gift. Something inherited. A piece with a story attached to it. Everything else, she said, ends up in a drawer.

After that I saw it everywhere. The necklace bought on a whim and worn twice. The good piece kept in a box because it feels too precious for an ordinary Tuesday.

I wanted to make something light, personal, and worth reaching for. That’s where Apoliane started.

Why a cherry?

Partly because cherries are sweets to me. Mostly because they’re summer.

When I was small, my grandparents had friends with a garden, and I spent whole afternoons in it eating cherries off the tree. Warm from the sun, hands stained red, nowhere to be.

I was drawing the thing that pulls that afternoon back. And that turned out to be the whole idea.

A cherry doesn’t have to mean love, or luck, or anything a brand has decided on your behalf.

It only has to mean what it already means to you.

My father-in-law cuts a pineapple a very particular way, turning it slowly in his hand to save every last bit of the flesh. I can’t look at one now without seeing him do it. That’s just a memory that belongs to me.

Small things.
Considered carefully.

I draw the fruit collection by hand in Paris, on paper, before it exists in metal. I care about the curve of a leaf, the size of a charm, and how a piece feels on an ordinary day.

Then the drawings go to our family workshop in Bangkok. My wife’s uncle, Thinh, brings his experience at the bench to the casting and setting. We work through the details together.

Alongside the fruit collection, you’ll find a selection of jewelry from the family workshop: birthstones, everyday pieces, and jewelry for days you’ll remember. Different shapes, with room for your own story.