When I was younger, I left Central Africa shortly after high school to study abroad in Asia.It was one of those periods in life where you are still discovering who you are, still becoming. Until then, I had never really thought deeply about the color of my skin or how it shaped the way people perceived me. But when I arrived, I quickly realized that for many people, I was the first African student or classmate they had ever interacted with. Most of what they knew about people like me came from media and distant perceptions.It was not always overtly hostile. Often, it was more subtle than that. Surprise. Doubt. Curiosity. Questions hidden beneath expressions.I noticed that the more my intelligence, my presence, or my capabilities were questioned, the more I began to shrink.I became quieter. More self-conscious. More hesitant to speak. I started questioning myself constantly: Am I good enough? Beautiful enough? Capable enough? I was young, far from home, and often found myself in spaces where there were none to very few people who looked like me. Yet at the same time, I was studying in excellent universities, surrounded by brilliant professors, opportunities, and international experiences.
Later, I would continue my studies in Europe and pursue a PhD at one of the largest universities in Europe. Still, I kept encountering that same subtle surprise at my presence in certain rooms. And because I was young, I internalized it. Until one day, I realized I could not continue living that way. I did not come from a wealthy family. The opportunities I had received felt bigger than me. I knew deeply that God had opened those doors and guided my path. And I understood that if I continued allowing external expectations to define my internal expectations, I would never become who I was meant to become. So I made a decision. I decided that I was worthy.That I was complete.That I was beautifully made by God.That I was capable of more than fear had allowed me to believe. At the time, I was not particularly interested in jewelry. I have always been quite minimalist. But I realized I needed an anchor — something physical that could remind me of the decision I had made, and of the truth I knew about who I was whenever fear returned. So I bought a necklace with a cross pendant. Every time I entered a room, had a presentation to give, or felt my mind beginning to question me again, I would touch the necklace. And each time, it reminded me: Do not shrink. Do not forget who you are.You belong here too.
Slowly, that reminder changed me.What began as a conscious effort eventually became my default way of thinking. I stopped seeing myself through limitation and started seeing myself through possibility, faith, worthiness, and purpose. Years later, when I began imagining the Crowns Collection, I returned to that memory.I thought about how powerful it is to have an object that reminds you of a decision you have made about yourself. That reminds you of who you really are beyond the world's perception of you, beyond routines and hardship. A decision to stop shrinking. A decision to return to yourself. A decision to embody a part of yourself you may have forgotten along the way.
That is why Crowns was created.A collection of necklaces inspired by archetypes and feminine energies — each one designed to act as both a beautiful object and a quiet reminder. Not of who the world says you are.But of who you choose to be. Of who you know deep inside that you are capable of. Different archetypes, but the same intention: Remembering the queen in you and deciding every day to show up as her. Because every day, we choose and every repeated choice slowly becomes our identity.The Crowns Collection was created for that moment of remembrance.A reminder that power begins with self-recognition.
Eugénie
