ANDREA LI

LIMITED COLLECTIONS

necklace

The Last Kunzite I Had

Tamar: Second LightAndrea Li
Last Light kunzite necklace with a gold paperclip chain, pale purple gemstones, pearls, and editorial text on a white background.

I had one kunzite pendant left, bought from my gem vendor Earthstone, and I knew this was my last chance to use it in the pastel collections.

That is why this piece exists. Not a design idea that needed a stone. A stone that was running out of chances.

I buy what I fall for and then keep designing until each stone has found the one piece it was meant for. Most of the time that works out. Occasionally a stone waits years, and occasionally I get to the end of a collection and realize the waiting is over, one way or the other.

What is actually inside this stone

It is large, pale pink, and finished smooth rather than faceted. Hold it to the light and you can see straight into it, which is the point of a finish like that, and also the risk.

Two things are visible in there. Growth and etch tubes, which are fine parallel channels running through the crystal like needles laid side by side. And healing cracks, sometimes called feathers, which are partial internal fractures that read as faint veils.

Neither is damage. Both are the record of how the crystal grew and what happened to it while it was growing.

Andrea Li Fine Jewelry

Why Kunzite Is Finished Smooth

The silvery threads inside a kunzite are hollow. That one fact decides how the stone has to be cut, and it is the reason you will not see this stone faceted on my bench.

Diagram of kunzite formation: lithium-rich granite pegmatite, rapid crystal growth along the c-axis, and hollow growth tubes where fluid was trapped

Step One

The tubes are empty space

Kunzite grows in lithium-rich granite pegmatite, and it grows fast along one axis. That speed traps pockets of fluid and empty space as the crystal lengthens, leaving hollow growth tubes, also called etch tubes or channels, running the length of the stone.

In the pendant I used for Last Light I could see both kinds: growth and etch tubes, fine parallel needle-like tubular channels, and healing cracks or feathers, partial internal fractures that look like faint veils.

Total internal reflection diagram: light traveling through transparent kunzite meets a hollow air and liquid interface and reflects back, producing a silvery metallic appearance

Step Two

Which is why they look like silver

Nothing metallic is in there. Light moving through the transparent stone hits the boundary between crystal and the air or liquid inside a tube, and at a shallow enough angle it reflects instead of passing through.

That is total internal reflection, the same effect that makes a fiber-optic strand glow. The eye reads those bright reflections as fine silver needles.

A kunzite showing structurally hollow cavities alongside a magnified view of the visual silver needles they produce

Step Three, the bench decision

So the stone gets a dome, not facets

Those same hollow channels are structural weakness. Four reasons I finish kunzite smooth:

  • Kunzite has two directions of perfect cleavage, so faceting pressure can split it.
  • The stone resists abrasion, so faceting friction stresses the weak internal structures rather than cutting cleanly past them.
  • A cabochon distributes pressure evenly instead of concentrating it at an edge.
  • Kunzite is pleochroic. A dome blends the shifting pink and violet, where facets lock them into fixed reflections.

"Kunzite looks almost like a light pale pink hard piece of candy with fine, parallel grooves or lines called striations along their length. These lines reflect light and give the stone a shimmering, fibrous look from within. As you move the stone under light these striations shimmer at different angles."

Andrea Li, at the bench

Kunzite is the pink to lilac variety of spodumene, colored by traces of manganese, 6.5 to 7 on the Mohs scale, named for the gemologist George Frederick Kunz who described it in 1902. Gemology per GIA and the International Gem Society. The bench observations are my own.

See the Second Light Collection

Why kunzite is never faceted if you can help it

Kunzite has two directions of perfect cleavage, the same structural weakness that runs through moonstone. Pressure or vibration from faceting can split or splinter it. The stone also resists abrasion, so the heavy friction that faceting requires puts more stress on exactly the internal structures least able to take it.

A smooth finish is gentler. Rolling and polishing distributes pressure evenly instead of concentrating it, which lowers the chance of losing the stone on the lap.

There is an optical reason as well. Kunzite is pleochroic, which means it shows different colors depending on the angle you view it from. A rounded dome lets those shifting pink and violet hues blend softly into each other.

Facets would do two things instead. They lock the color into rigid reflections, and each flat face becomes a window onto every inclusion inside. A smooth surface holds the veils and the tubes in suspension rather than spotlighting them.

I wanted it hung between two chains, not from one

I wanted something different from anything else in the collection, and I kept coming back to the same picture: the stone suspended between two chains dropping in parallel on either side of it, making a clean vertical line.

Which meant the stone needed two sides to attach to. It does not naturally have those.

So I set it into a 24k gold vermeil oval first, folded in half over a dowel with enough space to hold the stone. That gave me a left and a right to wire the chains into, and it turned a pendant into a component.

Studio collage showing the Last Light necklace in progress beside the finished gold chain design with kunzite, pearls, and pastel gems.

Then I edged the oval and grew a cluster off it

Once the stone was secure I edged the vermeil with tiny stones. Pale amethyst, mystic labradorite and moonstone, fifteen and fourteen and seventeen of them respectively, each one wired individually.

Then the cluster. Pink druzy, pink chalcedony, morganite, lavender quartz, rose quartz, pink and purple sapphires, a large flat aquamarine briolette, and Japanese Akoya keshi pearl accents.

This is the part of my work people recognize, and it is the part I do not rush.

The cluster hangs off the stone rather than surrounding it. On a piece built around a vertical line, a cluster that ringed the pendant would have closed the shape and undone the whole idea. So it gathers at one shoulder of the oval and spills from there.

The pattern I scrapped

I knew I wanted to fill the space between the two chains, so I built a pattern of pearls and gemstones to run down it.

I took it out.

Against the scale of the pendant and the weight of those elongated paperclip links, the pattern read as too small and too delicate. It was a fine idea at the wrong size, and keeping it would have made the whole necklace look busier and less certain. The empty run between the chains does more than the pattern did.

Made once, and there is no next one

I chose elongated paperclip chain for the two runs because the links are long enough to carry the linear idea instead of interrupting it.

This is the fourth kunzite piece I have made for the pastel work, after a choker that has since found its person and Alpenglow, whose own kunzite arrived with a single drill hole and had to be set into a crescent. Its matching earrings make four.

This was the last pendant. There is not another one waiting, which is the other reason for the name.

Questions

What are the lines and veils inside a kunzite?
Two common inclusion types. Growth and etch tubes are fine, parallel, needle-like channels running through the crystal structure. Healing cracks, also called feathers, are partial internal fractures or healing planes that look like faint veils. Both are natural records of how the crystal formed, and a smooth cabochon finish holds them in suspension rather than spotlighting them the way flat facets would.
Why is kunzite finished smooth rather than faceted?
Kunzite has two directions of perfect cleavage, so pressure or vibration from faceting can split it, and because the stone resists abrasion the friction of faceting stresses its weakest internal structures. A smooth finish distributes that pressure evenly. Kunzite is also pleochroic, showing different colors by viewing angle, and a rounded dome blends those shifting hues instead of locking them into rigid facet reflections.
Is Last Light one of a kind, and can I commission something similar?
Yes, and in this case there is no way to repeat it even loosely, because it was the last kunzite pendant of its kind I had. If you would like something made in the same spirit with a different stone, you can start a commission through the custom shop.

Discover

Jewelry that feels like you.

Two minutes. The quiz tells me how you want jewelry to feel in your life, and the messages that follow walk you through pieces I think you'll love.

Take the Style Quiz

Two minutes. I take it from there.

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Why Moonstone Is Cut Smooth

Tamar: Second LightAndrea Li

You almost never see a faceted moonstone, and there are three reasons for that. All of them are the same reason, really. The stone only works if you leave it alone.

I could not get enough of these stones

Eight AAAA rainbow moonstone marquis, cut as smooth polished domes rather than faceted. The flash in them is almost neon. An electric blue that moves when the stone moves.

That flash has a name. Adularescence, and it is not a color in the stone at all. It is light scattering between microscopic alternating layers of two feldspar minerals, orthoclase and albite, stacked inside the crystal like sheets.

Which is exactly why the cut matters.

Andrea Li Fine Jewelry

Rainbow Moonstone: The Three Quality Tiers

Rainbow moonstone has no laboratory certificate. It is graded by eye, on clarity, flash, and cut.

AAAA grade rainbow moonstone cabochon with intense glowing blue adularescence

AAAA / AAA

Aura-Quality

Crystal-clear body, with intense blue and rainbow flash from any angle.

AA and A commercial grade rainbow moonstone cabochons with scattered blue flash and black speck inclusions

AA / A

Commercial

Translucent to semi-opaque, with moderate or scattered flash.

B and AB craft grade rainbow moonstone, opaque milky tumbled stones with weak adularescence

B / AB

Craft Grade

Opaque and milky, with weak or missing adularescence.

The full criteria for each tier, plus how transparency, adularescence and cut are judged, are in the complete guide.

Read the Moonstone Quality Guide

Three reasons the dome is correct

A rounded, polished surface works like a lens. Light enters, scatters across those internal layers, and glides smoothly through the stone. Facets do the opposite: flat faces break light into sharp, sparkling reflections that sit on the surface, and that masks the glow underneath. You trade the moonlight for sparkle, and moonstone is not a sparkle stone.

The second reason is the stone's own fragility. Moonstone belongs to the feldspar family and has two directions of perfect cleavage, which means it splits easily along flat planes if struck. Grinding it into a dome removes the sharp edges that would chip in daily wear. Cutting sharp angles into it does the reverse, and raises the risk of fracture both on the lap and on a wrist.

The third is inclusions. Most moonstone carries fine internal fractures that look like tiny centipedes, and that is the actual term for them. A cabochon blends those into the overall glow. Faceting turns each flat face into a window and puts every flaw on display.

So the smooth finish is not a style choice. It is the only cut that lets the stone be what it is. You can read more in my moonstone guide, and if you have ever confused the two, pearl versus moonstone sorts them out.

I built the frame, then edged only one side of it

I hand-formed an oval from 12-gauge 14k gold-filled wire and drilled tiny holes around it as anchor points, so every stone could be wired down into the frame rather than sitting against it.

Then I edged that oval with the marquis moonstones, running them up the right side only.

Not all the way around. Up one side, in an asymmetric line, and then filled in with the rest of the cluster. That decision is what made the rest of the piece harder, and better.

Pastel moonstone pendant necklace with blue, lavender, and pink gemstones, gold chain, dangling beads, and two behind-the-scenes studio images.

The topaz already matched

While I was choosing the cluster I found some sky blue topaz left over from another collection.

They reflected the same blue as the flash in the moonstones. Not close to it. The same. That settled the whole palette, and everything else got chosen to sit beside those two blues: morganite, aquamarine, gray and pink sapphires, and Japanese Akoya keshi pearls.

There is a lot of luck in a sentence like that. There is also the fact that I keep what I do not use.

The drop is holding the necklace straight

I knew I wanted a gemstone drop from the beginning, so I wired 14k gold-filled chain into the base of the cluster and worked down it. Larger stones at the top, graduating smaller the further down they go, with more space between them as they descend.

I have used this same aesthetic many times, clustering stones down a chain, because it works. The look is recognizable by now, and I am fine with that.

But the drop is doing a structural job too. The pendant is deliberately asymmetric, with the moonstones weighted up one side, and an asymmetric pendant will hang crooked if you let it. The drop puts weight at the bottom and pulls the whole thing straight.

The second cluster, on the other side

Then I built a smaller cluster on the opposite side of the oval.

It balances the design and gives the eye something on the other side, and it fills the empty part of the frame. What it does not do is fill it completely. There is still plenty of negative space inside that oval, and there is meant to be.

I finished it on paperclip chain, which was the right weight twice over. Substantial enough to carry a pendant this heavy, delicate enough to belong with stones this fine.

Made once

Blue Hour is named for the light after the sun goes down, when everything reads blue. That is the color living inside these eight stones, and it gives Golden Hour a sibling at the other end of the day.

The same moonstone strand runs through Halo and through its matching earrings, so the three pieces share a stone as well as a collection. This one was made once, and the cluster inside its oval is the second cluster I built for that frame. The first one did not fit, and went on to become a bangle.

Questions

Why is moonstone cut smooth instead of faceted?
Three reasons. A rounded dome works like a lens and lets light scatter across the stone's internal layers, which is what produces the floating glow called adularescence, and facets break that light into surface sparkle instead. Moonstone also has two directions of perfect cleavage, so a dome removes the sharp edges most likely to chip. And most moonstone carries fine internal inclusions that a cabochon blends into the glow and faceting would emphasize.
What causes the blue flash in moonstone?
Adularescence, which is light scattering between microscopic alternating layers of two feldspar minerals, orthoclase and albite. It is not pigment and it is not a coating. It is structure, which is why it moves as the stone moves.
Is Blue Hour one of a kind, and can I commission something similar?
Yes. It was made once and will not be repeated. If you would like something made in the same spirit, you can start a commission through the custom shop.

Discover

Jewelry that feels like you.

Two minutes. The quiz tells me how you want jewelry to feel in your life, and the messages that follow walk you through pieces I think you'll love.

Take the Style Quiz

Two minutes. I take it from there.

Stay Close

Love what you see? Keep finding us.

Google now lets you choose your favorite sources so they show up labeled in AI search answers. If you enjoy discovering handcrafted gemstone jewelry here, add Andrea Li Designs and we'll be easier to find next time you search.

Add Andrea Li Designs as a Preferred Source

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What Kunzite Looks Like at the Bench

Tamar: Second LightAndrea Li

I usually start with a stone. I find the one I cannot stop looking at, I carry it around for a while, and eventually it tells me what it wants to be.

Alpenglow started in a notebook, with shapes drawn out and placed in an appealing configuration.

Five shapes, formed one at a time

I wanted large fabricated links, which meant I had to make them. I used a metal wire-bending jig with adjustable dies so the curves would come out smooth and uniform rather than approximately round, and I formed each shape from 12-gauge 14k gold-filled wire.

A large teardrop for the center. An elongated oval next to it, then a smaller oval. Then two more triangular shapes for the outer ends, because I knew I wanted the top point of each triangle to be where the chain attached.

Each one got soldered closed at its two end points, polished to a high shine, and drilled with tiny holes at every place another piece would eventually attach. That is hours of work that produce five plain gold shapes and nothing you would yet call jewelry. It is also the part that decides whether any of the rest of it holds together.

Andrea Li Fine Jewelry

Why Kunzite Is Finished Smooth

The silvery threads inside a kunzite are hollow. That one fact decides how the stone has to be cut, and it is the reason you will not see this stone faceted on my bench.

Diagram of kunzite formation: lithium-rich granite pegmatite, rapid crystal growth along the c-axis, and hollow growth tubes where fluid was trapped

Step One

The tubes are empty space

Kunzite grows in lithium-rich granite pegmatite, and it grows fast along one axis. That speed traps pockets of fluid and empty space as the crystal lengthens, leaving hollow growth tubes, also called etch tubes or channels, running the length of the stone.

In the pendant I used for Last Light I could see both kinds: growth and etch tubes, fine parallel needle-like tubular channels, and healing cracks or feathers, partial internal fractures that look like faint veils.

Total internal reflection diagram: light traveling through transparent kunzite meets a hollow air and liquid interface and reflects back, producing a silvery metallic appearance

Step Two

Which is why they look like silver

Nothing metallic is in there. Light moving through the transparent stone hits the boundary between crystal and the air or liquid inside a tube, and at a shallow enough angle it reflects instead of passing through.

That is total internal reflection, the same effect that makes a fiber-optic strand glow. The eye reads those bright reflections as fine silver needles.

A kunzite showing structurally hollow cavities alongside a magnified view of the visual silver needles they produce

Step Three, the bench decision

So the stone gets a dome, not facets

Those same hollow channels are structural weakness. Four reasons I finish kunzite smooth:

  • Kunzite has two directions of perfect cleavage, so faceting pressure can split it.
  • The stone resists abrasion, so faceting friction stresses the weak internal structures rather than cutting cleanly past them.
  • A cabochon distributes pressure evenly instead of concentrating it at an edge.
  • Kunzite is pleochroic. A dome blends the shifting pink and violet, where facets lock them into fixed reflections.

"Kunzite looks almost like a light pale pink hard piece of candy with fine, parallel grooves or lines called striations along their length. These lines reflect light and give the stone a shimmering, fibrous look from within. As you move the stone under light these striations shimmer at different angles."

Andrea Li, at the bench

Kunzite is the pink to lilac variety of spodumene, colored by traces of manganese, 6.5 to 7 on the Mohs scale, named for the gemologist George Frederick Kunz who described it in 1902. Gemology per GIA and the International Gem Society. The bench observations are my own.

See the Second Light Collection

The moment it dropped into the shape

The centerpiece was a large smooth pink kunzite I already had. There is often a bit of kismet and destiny whenever a stone finds its home.

Kunzite looks almost like a pale pink piece of hard candy. It carries fine parallel grooves running the length of it, called striations, and they catch the light from inside so the stone reads as fibrous rather than glassy. Move it under a lamp, and they shimmer at different angles, one after another.

I held it up against the large fabricated teardrop, and it nestled straight into the shape. That was the moment. Once I wired it onto the vermeil oval to set it, the necklace had a direction, and everything after that followed.

There was one problem. It had a single drill hole, and the hole sat at the slimmest point of the stone. Meaning it had only one anchor point, which is insufficient, especially when pointing downward to defy gravity rather than hanging right side up as a regular pendant on a chain.

This is not my first kunzite. I made a pink kunzite choker some time ago, and it has since found its person.

Kunzite, by the way, is the pink to lilac variety of spodumene, colored by traces of manganese, and it sits at 6.5 to 7 on the Mohs scale. I selected this stone for its pure aesthetic beauty.

So I could not hang it. It had to be seated into something that would allow multiple anchor points and to secure it well enough that positioning it inversely would not matter.

So I took a 24k gold vermeil oval. Vermeil is a thick layer of gold over sterling silver, not over base metal. I folded it in half over a wooden dowel, working it until it cradled the kunzite, then wired the stone in.

That gave me three anchor points into the fabricated teardrop instead of one. The stone is held by the structure now, not hanging off it.

Studio progress collage showing jewelry sketches, shaped wire frames, gemstones, pearls, and an evolving handmade necklace design.

The vermeil was showing, so I drew a line across it

Setting the stone left a curve of bare vermeil exposed along one edge. Not that this is a problem; the gold vermeil is still beautiful to look at, but I wanted the bare metal elements to be exclusive to the fabricated shapes.

I edged it with mystic labradorite. The stones are so small they read as a line before they read as stones, sweeping across the kunzite in an arch that comes back down on the far side from where it is wired.

It is the smallest material in the necklace. It is the first thing your eye follows.

Everything else grows out from there

Above and below the kunzite I built the clusters: kunzite pear briolettes, clear and opaque pink sapphires, purple sapphires, lavender quartz, morganite briolettes, moonstone rondelles, and Japanese Akoya keshi pearls. One large baroque pearl hangs below the lower cluster, with two lavender keshi freshwater pearls dropping beneath it.

Between each pair of shapes sits a simple-cut aquamarine on a 14k gold-filled head pin. Each one carries its own small cluster of pink and purple sapphires, above and below.

That is more than mere decoration. A stone threaded on a wire will rotate, and a rotating stone shows you its back half the time. The clusters hold it where I put it.

Both aquamarine and morganite appear in this piece. I have written up the difference separately. Go check out the link if you’re curious.

The side I changed my mind about

The two ends are not symmetrical, and that was not the plan.

One triangle takes a small gemstone cluster and runs into 14k gold-filled paperclip chain. The other was going to take a pearl with sapphire clustering above and below it, the same as its opposite number. I built it, looked at it, and swapped the pearl out for a single large pale amethyst simple cut with a small cluster of sapphires at its top.

I am glad I did, and not only because the necklace is better for it. That one pale amethyst is the reason there is now a bracelet. It sat there looking like the beginning of something, and I went back to the bench and made the piece it was asking for.

Gold statement necklace with kunzite, pastel crystal clusters, sculptural links, and cascading baroque pearls on a white background.

Why it is called Alpenglow

Alpenglow is the pink light that stays on the mountains after the sun has already dropped behind them. If you live where I live you see it most evenings, and it is the exact color of this stone.

It is also the whole idea of this collection stated in one word. Second Light is about the light that arrives after the light you were counting on has gone. I did not have to reach for the name.

The necklace was made once. The kunzite had one hole and one shape, the five links were formed by hand and will never come off the jig the same way twice, and the cluster was built to this stone and no other. It will not be made again, which is the point.

Questions

What is kunzite?
Kunzite is the pink to lilac variety of the mineral spodumene, colored by traces of manganese, sitting at 6.5 to 7 on the Mohs hardness scale. It is strongly pleochroic, so the depth of pink shifts depending on the angle you look at it from. The stone is named after George Frederick Kunz, the gemologist at Tiffany and Co. who first described it in 1902 from a find in San Diego County, California.
Does kunzite fade, and how should I care for it?
Kunzite's color can weaken with prolonged exposure to strong light and heat, so it is a stone to wear and then put away, rather than one to display on a sunny shelf. Clean it with a soft cloth and mild soapy water only. Never use an ultrasonic or steam cleaner, because the same perfect cleavage that makes kunzite difficult to cut also makes it vulnerable to a sharp knock. Looked after that way it lasts a lifetime.
Is Alpenglow one of a kind, and can I commission something similar?
Yes to the first. It was built once and will not be repeated. The five link shapes were bent, soldered, polished and drilled by hand in my Denver studio, and the cluster was built around this particular kunzite. If you would like something made in the same spirit, you can start a commission through the custom shop.

Discover

Jewelry that feels like you.

Two minutes. The quiz tells me how you want jewelry to feel in your life, and the messages that follow walk you through pieces I think you'll love.

Take the Style Quiz

Two minutes. I take it from there.

Stay Close

Love what you see? Keep finding us.

Google now lets you choose your favorite sources so they show up labeled in AI search answers. If you enjoy discovering handcrafted gemstone jewelry here, add Andrea Li Designs and we'll be easier to find next time you search.

Add Andrea Li Designs as a Preferred Source

One click. Works across Google Search, AI Overviews, and AI Mode.

Moontide: The Moonstone Necklace I Was Not Sure Would Work

Tamar: Second LightAndrea Li
Close-up of a gold and moonstone statement necklace with luminous blue gems, overlaid with the title “Moontide: The Moonstone Necklace.”

I build most pieces knowing, more or less, where they are going. This one I built the way you play chess against someone better than you: looking a hundred moves ahead, hoping the plan you cannot fully see will hold.

It took me close to twenty hours over three days. For almost all of that time I was confident, in the way thousands of hours at the bench make you confident, and still not certain. Those are two different feelings. I did not actually know Moontide would work until I was setting the finishing touches and the whole thing finally stood up and held its shape. That was the moment. Everything before it was faith.

The stones I chose, and the ones I gave up

The heart of Moontide is a run of rainbow moonstone marquis, cut into that pointed-oval shape jewelers call a navette. They are the finest moonstones I have ever worked with, AAAA grade, nearly clear, with a blue flash that seems to float up from somewhere inside the stone rather than sit on its surface. I graduated them by size, largest at the center front, tapering as the design climbs toward the neck.

Around each moonstone I wrapped mystic labradorite, aquamarine, and tiny moonstone rondelles, and set small blue topaz between the frames. But that was not the original plan. I had meant to edge each frame in pastel Herkimer diamonds. When I started working at the scale this piece demanded, the Herkimer proved too brittle to survive the construction. The design was already ambitious enough without fighting my own materials, so I let the Herkimer go and let moonstone, aquamarine, and labradorite carry the cool, watery palette instead.

Gemstone science: where the flash comes from

Moonstone's glow has a name: adularescence. It happens because moonstone is built from microscopic alternating layers of two feldspar minerals, and when light enters, those layers scatter it and send it back as that soft, rolling sheen. In the best rainbow moonstones, like these, the effect reads as an electric blue floating over near-colorless stone. Labradorite carries a cousin of the same magic, called labradorescence, which is where its own metallic blues and greens come from. Moonstone sits around 6 to 6.5 on the Mohs hardness scale, so it is a stone to wear with a little care. Because each stone's flash depends on its own internal structure, no two are alike, and no two ever catch the light the same way.

Andrea Li

☾ ✦ ✧

Gemstone Profile:

Moonstone

Moonstone showing its blue adularescent glow

The glow · Adularescence

◇

Identification & Type

Moonstone (orthoclase feldspar). A captivating variety of feldspar known for its ethereal, floating luster.

◇

Physical Properties

✓

Mohs hardness: 6 to 6.5

◉

Colors: translucent to opaque. Classic white with a blue sheen, plus rainbow, peach, and grey.

✦

Luster: pearly to vitreous.

□

Chemical formula: (K,Na)AlSi3O8

◇

Key Phenomenon: Adularescence

Scattered light. The sheen comes from light diffracting through thin, alternating mineral layers inside the crystal, which scatters it back as that soft floating glow. Rainbow moonstone, a variety of labradorite, spreads it into a full spectrum.

◇

Major Origins

Sri Lanka (Ceylon) India Madagascar United States
◇

Symbolism & Metaphysical

☉

Intuition & Clarity

☾

New Beginnings

✦

Calm & Balance

☽

Feminine Energy & Fertility

◇

Care & Handling

✓

Gentle cleaning. Use warm, soapy water and a soft brush. Never an ultrasonic or steam cleaner.

✓

Avoid chemicals. Protect it from harsh agents, perfume, and cosmetics.

✓

Store separately. Keep it in a soft pouch so harder stones cannot scratch it.

The beauty of moonstone. Elegance in nature's glow.

Andrea Li

andreali.com

Building the cages

I do not bezel stones like these. Instead I made a frame for each marquis by taking a 24k gold vermeil oval and folding it, gently, over a wooden dowel, almost in half, into an open horseshoe shape. I left one side sitting a little higher at the back, which gave each frame dimension and something to anchor its moonstone into. Then I hand-wrapped the perimeter of every frame with mystic labradorite, aquamarine, and tiny moonstone rondelles, and went back and wrapped again, rewiring and securing the whole thing a second time so nothing would ever wiggle loose. Some frames I went through three times. When I broke a stone, I replaced it and started that frame's discipline over. When I missed a single rondelle, the pattern fell out of step and the moonstone would not sit centered, so I took it apart and did it again.

The frames themselves are two sizes. The front three are larger, one for the biggest moonstone and one on each side to flank it with the next size down. The rest are smaller, so the necklace reads as a graduated fan that narrows as it wraps the neck. That graduation was a decision I made at the very beginning, long before most of the piece existed.

The problem I solved at four in the morning

Here is the part that kept me up. Each frame needed to connect to its neighbors, and it needed a second layer above to hold everything up as the necklace climbs and, honestly, defies gravity a little. I set tiny blue topaz between the frames to join them, and they had to land at the exact same point on every arch or the whole necklace would hang crooked. I marked the pattern with a sharpie so I could repeat it precisely.

The top join was the real puzzle. Plain chain would not work, because chain has fixed spacing and the distance between the frames has to change continuously as the piece curves toward the neck. A bare beading chain would let the design collapse on itself. It needed something substantial between the frames to prop it open. I hunted for the right bead. Pearls were easy to drill but felt too precious. Then I remembered a stock of smooth aquamarine cabochons left over from my Glacier collection, exactly the right size, and I only had to ream a wide hole in that one kind of stone rather than dozens. The trouble with a smooth cabochon is that it can rotate. It was at four in the morning that I realized I had tiny 24k gold vermeil spikes I could place between the stones, a variable number in each gap. Their points radiate in every direction, almost like a burr, so they catch against the smooth cabochons where a plain rondelle never could. They do not stop the spin completely, but they slow it and give each stone structure on either side, and they became the thread running through the entire piece. Once I saw it, the design finally came together.

One last detail I love: on the final moonstone rondelle at each end, right before the chain, I drilled the hole extra wide so the end cap sinks down inside the stone and disappears. No visible hardware. Just stone into chain.

Andrea Li Fine Jewelry

Rainbow Moonstone: The Three Quality Tiers

Rainbow moonstone has no laboratory certificate. It is graded by eye, on clarity, flash, and cut.

AAAA grade rainbow moonstone cabochon with intense glowing blue adularescence

AAAA / AAA

Aura-Quality

Crystal-clear body, with intense blue and rainbow flash from any angle.

AA and A commercial grade rainbow moonstone cabochons with scattered blue flash and black speck inclusions

AA / A

Commercial

Translucent to semi-opaque, with moderate or scattered flash.

B and AB craft grade rainbow moonstone, opaque milky tumbled stones with weak adularescence

B / AB

Craft Grade

Opaque and milky, with weak or missing adularescence.

The full criteria for each tier, plus how transparency, adularescence and cut are judged, are in the complete guide.

Read the Moonstone Quality Guide

Why Moontide is one of a kind

Every one of these moonstones was unrepeatable before it reached my bench, and the way I graduated, framed, and joined them cannot be drawn the same way twice. Moontide is the first piece of Second Light, the next chapter of the pastel work I began with Tamar. Second Light is about light returning after dark, and a necklace built almost entirely of captured moonlight felt like the right place to begin. This one asked more of me than almost anything I have made. It was worth every one of those hundred moves.

The matching earrings

I made a pair of earrings to wear with Moontide, changed just enough to stand on their own. Each one centers a faceted Swiss blue topaz, a slightly deeper blue than the necklace's accents, framed with the same hand-wrapped halo and finished with a moonstone marquis drop. Tiny 24k gold vermeil spikes echo the spacer beads that run through the necklace, so the pair reads as clearly part of Moontide without simply repeating it.

Shop the Moontide necklace and its matching earrings, the first pieces of the Second Light collection.

Questions

What gives rainbow moonstone its blue flash?
The effect is called adularescence. Moonstone is made of microscopic alternating layers of two feldspar minerals, and when light enters the stone those layers scatter it and send it back as a soft, floating sheen. In fine rainbow moonstone like the marquis in this necklace, that sheen reads as an electric blue over near-colorless stone. Because it depends on each stone's internal structure, no two flash exactly alike.
Is moonstone durable enough to wear often?
Moonstone sits around 6 to 6.5 on the Mohs hardness scale, which is softer than quartz, so it rewards a little care. It is a wonderful stone for a statement piece worn for an occasion or an evening, kept away from hard knocks and stored on its own so nothing harder scratches it.
Is Moontide one of a kind, and can I commission something similar?
Yes. Each moonstone was unrepeatable before it reached the bench, and the whole piece is engineered around this exact set of stones. If you would like something made in the same spirit, you can begin a commission through the custom shop.

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Take the Style Quiz

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Cascade: The Amethyst Stalactite Necklace That Falls Like Water

Tamar: Second LightAndrea Li

When I finished the first amethyst stalactite necklace in this collection, I knew there had to be a second one. Not a copy. A counterpart.

The first piece, the one I called Awakening, lies on its side like a small landscape, calm and horizontal, with the gemstone cluster gathered tight at one end. I had another slice from the same rare group of stones, and it wanted to do the opposite. It wanted to fall. So instead of turning this one on its side, I hung it the way a stalactite actually grows in the dark: pointing down, reaching toward the ground, drop by drop. Everything about this necklace came from that single decision to let the stone descend.

The materials

The heart of the piece is an amethyst geode stalactite slice, set downward into large 24k gold vermeil circles I fold by hand. Because the stone is substantial, it needed a chain with equal presence, so I built the body from a chevron-patterned 14k gold-filled chain, layered in three rows so it reads as one thick, unified band.

Around the slice I grew a cluster of coordinating pastel stones: fancy-cut amethyst, mixed beryl in aquamarine, morganite and heliodor, aquamarine briolettes, tiny sapphires in every color from opaque pink to green, a touch of green topaz, grey moonstone, kunzite, and akoya keshi pearls. The chain drops are anchored with green amethyst, and the lighter edge of the setting is finished in tiny sparkling mystic labradorite. Every stone was chosen to echo the soft purples and smoky greys held inside the slice itself.

Gemstone science: a stalactite, set the way it grew

An amethyst stalactite slice is a cross-section cut from a formation that grew hanging inside an ancient volcanic geode, almost always from Uruguay or southern Brazil. Silica-rich water seeps into a pocket in cooling basalt and, drop by drop, builds a hanging spike exactly the way a stalactite grows in a cave. The center fills first with microcrystalline agate, the banded eye you see, and larger amethyst crystals grow outward around it into the open space, forming the pale purple halo, often finished with a rim of raw druzy. Amethyst is simply purple quartz, colored by traces of iron and natural irradiation, and it sits at a 7 on the Mohs hardness scale. Because the pattern forms entirely by chance, no two slices are ever the same. Setting this one point-down lets it hang the way it first formed, millions of years ago, in the dark.

Andrea Li

andreali.com

Gemstone Science: Amethyst Stalactite Geode

A sliced amethyst stalactite geode, its banded agate eye ringed by a halo of radiating purple amethyst crystals and a raw druzy rim

One geode, sliced · a sealed landscape no two of which are alike

How It Forms

01

A pocket opens inside cooling volcanic basalt, and silica-rich water seeps in.

02

Drop by drop, a stalactite grows hanging downward, exactly the way one grows in a cave.

03

The center fills first with banded agate, then amethyst crystals grow outward, finished by a raw druzy rim.

Ancient volcanic pocket in cooling basalt · drop-by-drop stalactite formation

Anatomy of a Slice

Microcrystalline Agate Center

The banded eye at the heart of the slice, the first mineral to fill the pocket.

Amethyst Crystals Halo

Larger purple crystals growing outward into the open space, forming the ring of color.

Raw Druzy Rim

The sparkling crystal-tipped edge that finishes the formation, left exposed as the feature.

The Facts

Origin

Uruguay and southern Brazil, from ancient volcanic geodes.

Mineral

Purple quartz, the violet variety of crystalline quartz.

Color Cause

Traces of iron plus natural irradiation deep in the earth.

Hardness

7 on the Mohs scale, durable enough for regular wear.

Unique Patterns

The pattern forms entirely by chance. No two slices are ever the same.

Truly One of a Kind

Drawn once by the earth over millions of years, it can never recur.

A one-of-a-kind amethyst stalactite slice set point-down against volcanic rock, the way it first formed inside the geode

Setting Point-Down

Lets it hang the way it first formed, millions of years ago, in the dark.

Learn more at andreali.com

Andrea Li

The creative process

Always, with these stalactites, the hardest part is invisible in the finished piece: building the structure everything else attaches to. I use large 24k vermeil circles that I gently fold in half over a wooden dowel to get a clean crease, and I cradle the slice inside that fold. There is only one hole to anchor the whole frame, so I widen it as much as I dare with a diamond-tipped reamer, then thread layer after layer of gold-filled wire through it to weave a web that locks the vermeil circles in place. Only then can the gemstone setting begin, covering the surface of the circles so completely that the stones look like they are growing straight out of the stone.

Here I made a choice about restraint. I clustered gemstones along only half of the vermeil circle and edged the rest of the lighter left side in nothing but tiny mystic labradorite, keeping it deliberately minimal so the fully clustered right side could sing. Then I cascaded that cluster downward, letting it spill past the edge of the stalactite to exactly where the three chains reappear at the bottom right, so the pendant and the waterfall drop read as one seamless line rather than two separate ideas.

The chains were their own puzzle. I wanted them to waterfall off the bottom of the pendant into a dramatic triple drop, extending the line of the stone and giving it room to breathe. To make three chains lay correctly around a neck, I used a two-strand bar clasp and drilled an extra hole in the middle to carry the third chain, then cut the chains to slightly varied lengths, shorter on the inside and longer on the outside, so they would curve cleanly instead of tangling.

The moment it changed

The first version of the chain drops was wrong, and I knew it the moment I held it up.

I had originally anchored each of the three drops with a green rutilated quartz teardrop, clear quartz shot through with fine green needles. On paper it made sense. In the hand it was too much: the green was oppressive, and it clashed with the soft, muted palette of the rest of the stones. So I took them off and switched to simple-cut green amethyst rectangles instead. Their color was quieter, their rawness echoed the stalactite and the other stones, and suddenly they belonged to the chorus rather than shouting over it. That one swap is the difference between a piece that fights itself and a piece that resolves.

Why this one is truly one of a kind

The slice was unrepeatable before it ever reached my bench. Its banded eye, its purple halo, the exact way the crystals grew, all of it was drawn once by the earth and will never be drawn the same way again. When I build a cluster and a cascade of chain to match one stone, I am matching a composition that cannot recur. Cascade is the vertical, dramatic sister to Awakening, and together with the Ember cuff they complete a three-piece story I could only tell with these three particular slices.

Questions

What is an amethyst stalactite slice?
It is a cross-section cut from an amethyst stalactite, a formation that grew drop by drop hanging inside an ancient volcanic geode, mostly from Uruguay and southern Brazil. Each slice shows a banded agate eye at the center, ringed by a halo of pale purple amethyst crystal, often finished with a rim of raw druzy. Because the pattern forms entirely by chance, no two slices are ever the same. You can read more in my amethyst stalactite guide.
Is amethyst durable enough for everyday wear?
Amethyst is purple quartz, colored by traces of iron and natural irradiation, and it sits at a 7 on the Mohs hardness scale, which is durable for regular wear. The raw druzy rim of a stalactite slice is its most delicate part, so it is best treated with a little care.
Is this necklace one of a kind, and can I commission something similar?
Yes. This exact slice, cluster, and cascade of chain will never be repeated. If you would like something made in the same spirit, you can begin a commission through the custom shop.

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Take the Style Quiz

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The Wire That Found a Home Twice: Green Amethyst Hoops and Their Necklace

Tamar: Second LightAndrea Li

Some of my favorite pieces start as someone else's leftovers.

Years ago I did a kind of work most people never see. I ghost-designed jewelry for another brand, creating pieces they would put their own name on, which the industry calls white labeling. For one production run I bought a quantity of thin, square-gauge gold-filled wire. Then the designer decided to bring her production in house, and just like that the project ended, leaving me holding a spool of wire with nowhere to go.

I do not throw beautiful material away. So I set out to find it a home in my own work, and it ended up finding two.

First, the hoops

The wire was light, which made it perfect for a statement hoop that would not drag on the lobes. I wanted something geometric and thoroughly modern, so I fabricated a caged hoop: individual shapes, long ovals and circles, each soldered separately and then soldered together. The hard part was keeping the circles from drifting under the torch, because the two earrings had to come out identical. Then I bent the wire into two large matching hoops, threaded them through the cage, and soldered them in so the whole thing read as one integrated form. I added a small mirrored gemstone cluster to each, with a long green amethyst set down the center.

I always wear a new design out before it goes to its person, to be sure it actually feels good to wear. Every time I have worn these, someone stops me. That is the quiet proof that a piece is doing its job: turning heads and starting conversations.

Gold hoop earrings with pale green gemstone drops and clustered pastel stones, displayed on a white background with soft shadows.

Then, the necklace

Making the hoops left me with more of that square wire, and I could not let it sit again. So I made a necklace in the same language.

I fabricated and soldered three long ovals to echo the long ovals that anchor the hoops. The longest became a drop pendant; the other two split at the top to flank the main gemstone cluster and to give me anchor points for the chains that wrap around the neck. A long green amethyst drops from the cluster to be framed inside that longest oval, tying the pendant and the cluster into one gesture. The cluster itself anchors all three ovals and vines up the side of the right one, just enough asymmetry to feel alive while the whole piece stays balanced.

Gemstone science: amethyst's green sister

The green amethyst running through both pieces is properly called prasiolite. It is quartz in a soft, leafy green, and most of it begins as amethyst or pale quartz that turns green through heat, deep in the earth or through careful treatment. So it is amethyst's cooler, calmer sister, the same mineral in a different mood. At a 7 on the Mohs scale, it is durable enough to live an everyday life.

To fill the open space inside each flanking oval and to balance the cluster, I added two of my Mixed Beryl crown-cut beads, one to a side, threaded in individually.

The trick was the chain

For the body of the necklace I used a labradorite enamel chain flanked by a slightly heavier chain that shares its delicate look but lends a little more presence. Together they read almost as a single chain with fine detailing.

The genuinely tricky part was spacing. The two chains had to stay evenly spaced all the way around, including at the back of the neck where chains love to twist together. Holding that spacing is what preserves the illusion of one unified piece. It is the kind of work no one is meant to notice, which is exactly why it matters.

The result is more minimal than the bolder pieces in this collection, which I love. It moves easily from a casual day to a cocktail hour without trying.

Why this one is one of a kind

A spool of wire bought for a brand that is not mine, orphaned by a decision I did not make, and given two lives by hand: a pair of hoops, and the necklace built from what they left behind. The green amethyst ties them together; the asymmetry and the chain-work make the necklace its own. None of it can be repeated, because the wire is nearly gone and the choices were made one response at a time.

It is proof of the thing I believe most. Nothing beautiful has to go to waste, and the second life is often the better one.

More like these

Drawn to this green? So am I.

Green amethyst statement jewelry→
 

Questions

What is green amethyst, or prasiolite?
Green amethyst is properly called prasiolite, a green quartz. Most of it begins as amethyst or pale quartz that turns green through heat, deep in the earth or through careful treatment. At a 7 on the Mohs scale it is durable enough for everyday wear.
Are the hoops and the necklace sold together?
They were made from the same orphaned wire and share one design language, but each is its own one-of-a-kind piece.
Can I commission something similar?
Yes. Every piece is built once. If you would like something made in the same spirit, you can begin a commission through the custom shop.

Discover

Jewelry that feels like you.

Two minutes. The quiz tells me how you want jewelry to feel in your life, and the messages that follow walk you through pieces I think you'll love.

Take the Style Quiz

Two minutes. I take it from there.

Stay Close

Love what you see? Keep finding us.

Google now lets you choose your favorite sources so they show up labeled in AI search answers. If you enjoy discovering handcrafted gemstone jewelry here, add Andrea Li Designs and we'll be easier to find next time you search.

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