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Ask anyone in James Colarusso’s social circle what they “do,” and a confused pause will ensue. Mind you, his crew is made up not of dilettantes but of multihyphenates. Cola-russo himself is hard to pin down to one job title: In addition to his main focus, jewelry, he’s tried his hand at painting, sculpture, woodworking, and furniture design (a capsule collection of raw-edged-wood interiors pieces made in Nicaragua is forthcoming). Even his collection of heirloomesque jewelry came about in a characteristically low-key fashion. Colarusso has no formal training in the field; seven years ago, he made his first piece, a large concave ring, while bored on vacation on Long Island. The style is still in the collection today. “There are lots of things that I don’t know how to do that any normal jeweler would know,” he freely admits. “Having an idea and finding a way to get to that idea is more appealing to me.”
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Not content to split his time among five avocations, he has also made forays into construction; currently he is converting a circa 1908 carriage house in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, into a livable home. When he decides to host a party for nine of his closest friends, the 56-year-old jeweler is still only about halfway there; much of his house remains tarp-strewn. Clearly, Colarusso is a fan of the DIY method, and that extends to entertaining.
And as he preps for the evening, it’s clear that nostalgia is the driving force of his aesthetic. The antique silverware is his grandmother’s; the china belonged to the grandfather of his girlfriend, boutique owner Christine Ganeaux; and the long dining table was hewn from beams salvaged in the course of renovating the carriage house. His guests—who include fashion consultant Andrea Linett, filmmaker Sakae Ishikawa, and pastry chef Wayne Brachman—feel right at home in the lo-fi surroundings. While their host cooks paella in the wood-burning stove, the friends reminisce about sneaking into Talking Heads concerts as outer-borough teens.
Many of the guests are sporting pieces that Colarusso has custom-designed for them. Says Linett, “It’s personal jewelry, but not personal jewelry that’s, like, namby-pamby. It’s solid, and it feels very ’70s to me. It doesn’t feel like a statement piece that’s going to go out of style.” Colarusso calls his work “intensely per-sonal—nostalgic in a certain way, and romantic.” A chunky pendant was inspired by a particularly tragic chapter in his family history. His violinist grandfather fought in World War I but was granted leave to play in a string quartet, during which time his regiment was sent to the front and everyone was killed. A cigarette lighter made from a piece of the regiment’s melted-down cannon was his grandfather’s—and now Colarusso’s—only memento. One side bears a 13, considered a lucky number in his family’s native Sicily. “It’s always been this kind of mythical talisman I carry around everywhere. The image of that 13, which is fairly large—it’s the size of a silver dollar—has always stuck with me.” Appropriately, each piece in his collection, whether it’s a pendant bearing a forget-me-not seal or an ID bracelet that reads baby, has the appeal of a handed-down treasure.
As the dinner gets under way, it’s clear that Colarusso’s sentimentality is shared by the group. His circle of friends toasts him with shouted praise: “Talented! Loving! Generous!” Ganeaux yells, “Handsome!” Linett adds, “And he makes a really good paella.”
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