About

Who I Am

Hi, I’m Laura—designer, maker, photographer, and everything else behind CookOnStrike jewelry studio. For most of my life, I lived in Vilnius, working in an office job, navigating the usual routines of city life, and squeezing creative projects into evenings and weekends.

After the lockdown years, I began craving space, quiet, and a deeper connection to nature—a shift that eventually led me to a charming old brick house in a sleepy village near the Baltic coast. Here, my days are shaped by intuition and the seasons—a slower rhythm than before, but one I feel more at home in.

These days, I split my time between making jewelry, gardening, and slowly renovating the century-old house I now call home. I share it with my husband and a very opinionated, no-longer-stray cat who insists on supervising everything from shipping orders to chasing invisible monsters in the flower beds.

How It Started and How It's Going

CookOnStrike began on my kitchen table around 2010 with a roll of copper wire, some pebbles from my travels, and the cheapest tools I could afford. It was exciting! I taught myself wire wrapping, beadwork, and later metalwork—experimenting with different materials, learning new techniques as I went, and gradually upgrading from the most basic tools.

In 2011, encouraged by friends, I opened a shop on Etsy, and it took off in a way I never expected. Since 2015, I’ve been making jewelry full time. It’s one of those paths that only makes sense when you look back. With a background in economics, I never imagined I’d end up making jewelry for a living—but here I am.

Running this shop gives me something rare: independence. It’s not glamorous, and it’s definitely not passive income. But it lets me live on the land, create with my hands, and build a life that feels right for me.

What I Make

I make what feels right. I don’t follow trends, and I don’t chase fast fashion. My focus is on timeless, wearable designs that feel personal and intentional.

If a piece of jewelry clicks with your personality—if it helps you express something about who you are—then that’s success. My pieces aren’t meant to shout. They’re meant to fit: your unique style, your life, your rhythm.

Stud earrings are the heart of my shop—minimalist, geometric, organic, symbolic. They’re lightweight, easy to wear, and expressive—especially when paired with ear jackets, layered in a stack, or mixed with drops.

I also make chain necklaces and bracelets, forming each link by hand. It’s a slower way to work, and rarely done these days, but the result feels more personal—more alive.

My process is entirely hands-on. I cut, file, shape, solder, and polish everything myself. I wear-test new designs, checking how they move, how they feel, and how they hold up in daily life. Comfort matters as much as looks.

In the end, I want to make jewelry that becomes part of your life—not just your outfit.

Days in the Studio

Most days begin with a mental checklist and a cup of strong Earl Grey tea. There’s no strict routine—just a quiet pull toward whatever needs doing: a batch of orders to finish, photos to take, or a new idea that won’t leave me alone. Some days are productive, others are slower—tangled up in errands or distracted by the weather. Some begin at the workbench, others in the garden, and many end with a late-night session if I’m caught up in a project.

I work alone, so I’ve learned to listen to my own pace. I might spend hours soldering or polishing, or pause mid-task to step outside and stretch—or dig in the garden for a while. There’s a lot of freedom in this kind of work, but also a lot of quiet discipline. Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate both.

I don’t keep regular studio hours, but shipping happens like clockwork—getting orders out on time always comes first, come hell or high water.

I must admit, some days I question my choices—like anyone does—but on the best days, it feels like exactly where I’m meant to be: a sunny studio, surrounded by birdsong, garden chaos, and too many unfinished projects.

This work gives me the satisfaction of making things that didn’t exist before. Things that go out into the world—to people I’ll never meet—and somehow still connect.

Life Outside the Studio

When I’m not at the bench, I gravitate toward the quiet rituals of the outdoors—digging in the garden, exploring forest paths, or beachcombing with sand in my shoes and a pocket full of perfect pebbles. Living close to nature has made everything feel more cyclical, more grounded. I love watching things grow. I enjoy noticing the tiniest changes—like the way new birds arrive with spring, each bringing a song I haven’t heard since last year.

Some days I’m on my bike (though it’s not quite the same without the car-free paths I had in the city) or fixing something around the house that’s started falling apart. These moments aren’t just filler—they’re how I reset, reflect, and stay connected to what matters.

I’m not great at sitting still, but I’m also not chasing excitement in the traditional sense. I’ve always been drawn to crafting and self-reliance. The things that keep me moving—gardening, making, creating—might seem quiet from the outside, but they’re full of life to me.

Thank You

Thank you for being here, and for reading this far.

When you buy from a small handmade business like mine, you’re supporting one person who does it all—from the first sketch to the final polish, from the product photo to the postage label. That kind of support means the world to me.

Customer feedback is one of my favorite parts. A kind review can turn a bad day around. Knowing that something I made has become part of someone’s daily life never stops feeling a little bit magical.

I hope you find something here that clicks with you.