When life throws you a curve, you just have to keep moving forward. That is how I got into the jewelry business. 

When I moved to Canada 12 years ago, after marrying a man I had known for a week (long story), only to find out he was a hardcore TV addict, I needed something to do with my hands. I took out my little bead box and started working. 

I still wear the bracelets I made during that episode of “Law & Order.”

After a poor mark in junior high, I shunned all formal art classes. But my university had an art elective, so I took ceramics, which unlocked my artist brain. At midterm, my professor expressed doubt about my dedication to the craft, but by the end of the session, I had created more than 70 pieces, pushing first clay and then porcelain into art. 

I finally earned my A and loved it.

Two marriages and two sons later, when I moved to Canada, my kilns did not move with me. Always the artist and wanting to create, I started painting. 

The first paintings in Canada all looked like hurricanes. They were good enough to get me into the most prestigious art show in Toronto. 

I designed a tassel to sell along with my paintings. The problem came in sourcing a glass circle that was essential to my design. 

I commissioned a glass crack pipe maker to create the circles for me. He made about a dozen, then stopped. Why I thought a crack pipe maker was reliable, I have no idea, but I was determined to have my glass circles.

A friend of a friend had a friend in Vancouver whose sister made lamp glass beads. I sent her $100 to get going, holding my breath that my design would finally be made. I opened the package and poured out these tiny, yet pretty glass circles … that would never work. 

I put those expensive babies all on some random fencing wire in my bead box, making a crazy bracelet to catch the attention of passersby at my booth – shake, shake, shake. If Mariquita Masterson back home in Texas could melt Tanqueray bottles into jewels, I could make jewelry out of tiny glass circles. 

The bracelet was a showstopper, and I could have sold it a hundred times. 

Since I had no jewelry-making skills at the time and I needed to be able to make stuff while watching TV with my TV addict husband, I made pieces like I was hand sewing. Whipping wire into bracelets and crowns that were elaborate and juicy was fun. eBay was new, and the world was my oyster on buying beads.

I had no idea how to make even simple earrings for two years, as that seemed so mundane. Anyone could make earrings. My bracelets were bold and big like the Texas gal I was.

I even participated in the biggest New York City accessory show without taking any necklaces or earrings. It’s funny that I thought this was perfectly fine. I have to laugh at myself.

My early bracelets were unique, addictive and all overachievers. They were so lovely that they caught the eye of the head of international marketing for H&M. He bought an amazing bracelet, then commissioned a chandelier based on my bracelets in bright red coral, rich green jade and sparkling chunks of purple amethyst for his Swiss chalet.

It was stunning enough for a king. I added chandeliers to my forte.

My first whale of a client was Procter & Gamble. Someone saw one of my bracelets and asked who made it, and a few weeks later, I had an order for 9,000 necklaces for a Cover Girl giveaway at Christmas.

The necklaces each had three lobster claws with a different color bead dangling on it, all strung on a velvet ribbon with a real metal closure, and all perfectly packaged on printed card stock and in a plastic zip bag.

For that order, I needed at least 9,000 lobster claws and barrel clasps, 27,000 glass-faceted beads and head pins, several football fields in length of velvet ribbon, 9,000 printed cards and zip baggies and dozens of tool sets and glue guns.

Even the biggest suppliers in the United States choked when I called to place my order. I made them for $3 each, or $27,000. Since the crew and I would not get paid until they were all done, we were motivated to complete the order fast. 

It only took three weeks. Some of those workers and I are still friends today.

When was the last time you saw 9,000 of something? That is a lot of necklaces. All made in my kitchen.

I was hooked on wholesale manufacturing. By this time, my marriage was long over and done. If you are an entrepreneur, you are part crazy by definition. 

I have given up so many outings and events and so much fun just so I could work longer to take myself to the next level.

My days off are still rarer than rain in Austin, but I love making jewelry! I love scissors, paint, markers, beads and wire so much that I’d better be buried with them.

It is the hardest job in the world if you are a single mom, determined to work harder to create your business’ next level. I have made more than 20,000 unique designs, and I have many success stories, many fun failure stories, many fans wearing my jewels, many bad client stories, several press books and more than 10 million beads.

I also have a 3,000-square-foot studio/store: The Secret World of Gay Isber and Her Sugar Factory in Austin, aka The Sugar Factory. Easy to find with glittered “bubbles of joy” painted on the outside of the building, it is located at 1800 West Koenig near Burnet Road.

Come on by. I will gladly make you a pair of earrings – or 9,000 necklaces.

For more information, contact Gay Isber at gayisber@gmail.com or 512-949-9322. You may also visit www.gayisber.com.