Every handmade piece begins somewhere.
Mine began long before I ever carved wood or switched on a laser cutter. It began with curiosity, with collecting little treasures, with sketchbooks full of ideas, and with a childhood spent looking toward the sea.
I'm Natalie, the maker behind Lost Kiwi.
Every piece you find here has travelled from my sketchbook to my workbench, brought to life by my own hands. There is something quietly magical about taking an idea that exists only in your imagination and slowly coaxing it into something you can hold, wear, or gift to someone you love.
I don't simply want to make jewellery.
I want to make keepsakes.
The kind of piece that becomes part of someone's story. A necklace that's worn every day until the chain softens with time. Earrings that become someone's "lucky pair." A little charm that's gifted during life's happiest moments, or quietly carried through its hardest ones.
I've always believed the smallest objects can carry the greatest meaning.
One of my earliest memories takes me back to New Zealand.
I was still a young pup when I visited one of my mum's students. I don't remember her name anymore, and I couldn't tell you what her face looked like, but she heard that I loved dolphins. Before we left, she handed me a small dolphin pendant carved from whale bone.
To anyone else it may have looked like a simple souvenir.
To me, it was treasure.
I wore it everywhere. It made me feel seen in a way that's difficult to explain. A woman who barely knew me had listened, remembered something I loved, and given me a gift that became part of who I was growing up.
I still think about that pendant today.
It reminds me that jewellery isn't valuable because of the materials it's made from. It's valuable because of the memories we attach to it.
Perhaps that's why I create the way I do now.
Every collection begins as a page of rough sketches, some scribbled quickly before an idea disappears, others carefully refined over days or weeks. The best designs rarely arrive perfectly. They evolve through experimentation, mistakes, fresh cups of tea, and countless tiny decisions until they finally feel right.
I believe the most meaningful things are made slowly.
Not because they have to be, but because care can't be rushed.
Drawn to the Sea
The ocean has always found its way into my work.
Not because I see it as something to conquer, but because I don't.
I have an enormous respect for the sea. It is ancient, beautiful, unpredictable, and completely indifferent to us. It isn't a world humans were ever meant to belong to, and perhaps that's exactly why I've always been fascinated by it.
Many of my illustrations and jewellery explore that quiet relationship between ourselves and the ocean, not as its rulers, but as curious visitors standing at its edge.
You'll often notice another recurring character throughout my work.
Cats.
I've always loved the absurd contrast they create. What creature is more famously suspicious of water than a cat? And yet I find myself placing them aboard tiny boats, perched atop lighthouses, peering into tide pools, or embarking on impossible nautical adventures.
They've become my storytellers.
Through them I can explore wonder, curiosity, bravery, loneliness, humour, and the strange pull the sea seems to have on us all.
Beyond the Workbench
Outside of creating I fill my days with dreaming, stories, and tea. I dream of my next kayaking adventure over tropical reefs, of trekking back country looking for the perfect waterfall, of being entranced by a good book on a rainy day. I will never stop exploring and collect so many trinkets from all the adventures.
But a typical day in the studio can look quite different, I live in sunny Brisbane and bus to my studio. I do not drive, and feel guilty to all the friends that have to give me lifts, love you all. I listen to the birds and take my time, find a good coffee and give myself space to feel inspired. I make few pieces each day and hate rushing anything, so I apologise for a lot of out of stock items, I swear they are coming!
My favourite part of the making process is putting the first piece together, after envisioning it in my head being able to see it finally is amazing. Unless it didn't work, nothing throws a wrench in the works like it not working first try. But I pick myself up and keep trying until I love it.
The name Lost Kiwi came about after a terribly long time of not seeing my family in New Zealand, I had just moved to Vancouver and was so far away from everything I called home, I felt lost. However lost I was, I wasn't scared or regretful, a true adventure to me is to get hopelessly lost and I wanted to share that bittersweet feeling through my art. If you ever feel lost, remember it is a sign that things are changing, one day you will be found and until then take in the new experience.
Thank you for taking the time to wander into my little corner of the world.
Whether you've discovered Lost Kiwi through a handcrafted piece of jewellery, a laser-cut design, or simply a shared love of the ocean, I'm grateful our paths have crossed.
I hope that somewhere among these little treasures, you find something that feels as special as that tiny whale bone dolphin once felt to me.
⚓ Natalie
Founder & Maker of Lost Kiwi
