At Nitonna, everything starts with silver—melted, sculpted, creased.
Not to perfect it, but to let it live.
We craft each piece by hand in our Vilnius studio, working closely with family-run casters.
Our silver holds a living archive of stories rooted in marginalia—raw, intuitive, a little off-center.
Every piece begins as a tactile impulse.
Our studio is cluttered with fragments—scraps, sketches, receipts, failed casts that taught us something.
The act of making isn’t clean. It’s interrupted. It’s lived in.
We let the mess in. We make from it.
The pieces are sculptural and imperfect, echoing creased notes, worn metal, and the offbeat intimacy of things kept too long in a pocket. Think heavy, unpolished rings, asymmetric earcuffs, and organic shapes that look like they were once liquid—paused mid-pour. It’s jewelry that feels like your favorite boots or a song you’ve played too many times. Not light touches. More like anchors. Made for the ones who choose rain on clean laundry, who doodle in margins. Nitonna isn’t about statement. It’s about recognition.
For the ones who feel too much, do too much—or nothing at all—but still notice what most people miss.
It’s jewelry for people who don’t accessorize.
They collect. They carry. They choose.
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