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"Vera, your copper is beautiful. But it's too expensive." I hear it every week. And every week, my answer is the same. You're right. It is. A drugstore bracelet costs nine dollars. Mine costs more than three times that. If we're comparing the price tag, there's no contest — and I'd never try to win that argument. But here's what they don't put on the nine-dollar tag. That bracelet isn't copper. Not really. It's an alloy painted to look like copper, the kind that turns your wrist black in a week and ends up in a drawer by summer. The people selling it have never touched it. It was stamped out by a machine in a factory I couldn't find on a map. Mine is 99.9% pure copper — the grade my mother wore every day until she passed at 96. I cut it. I hammer it. I finish it. In the same workshop I've been working in since 1984. So yes. It costs more. Because it is more. And forty-one years in, I'm not about to start being cheap now. If the price still doesn't feel right for you today, I understand. There's no rush. But it's not going to get cheaper — not while I'm the one making it. — Vera