By Micaela Morganelli

There are objects that whisper stories — of places, of elements, of something both deeply personal and universally ancestral. The jewelry of Maripossa, founded by Lauren Besser, doesn’t just adorn the body. It draws you into a quiet ritual. A seed held in the palm. A relic of nature transformed by fire and instinct. A wearable meditation.

Based in New York and Melbourne, born in Australia, Lauren Besser launched Maripossa in 2010. Since then, her work has travelled widely — not only across continents and collections, but into museums, fashion shows, and the hands of artists like Rihanna and Georgia May Jagger. With roots in psychology and a passion for biophilic design, Besser creates pieces that speak to metamorphosis, memory, and meaning.

We sat down with Lauren to talk about seeds, contradictions, transformation, and the poetry of process.

Let’s begin with the seeds. You’ve mentioned collecting them from places like Guatemala, Ukraine, and the Middle East. What draws you to a specific seed or location? Is it an emotional connection, a symbolic one, or something more instinctive?

Initially when I was ideating the collection I was entirely emotionally driven. Born out of a lot of post war angst, fear and intergenerational trauma that unexpectedly surfaced. I needed a channel for all of that energy and wanted to put it towards something beautiful. I had planned to focus on global conflict zones and the main agricultural crop of specific regions. I spent a long stretch of time researching conflicts and went down such a rabbit hole. I became pretty disillusioned, wondering how I could transform notions of war into one of connectedness, and create thinking around regional identity and cultural connectedness with seeds as conduit. That we all, no matter where we’re from, have the same basic needs. That war is ultimately always a failure of imagination. I realised pretty quickly I didn’t want to focus on war, and the project naturally evolved into a broader idea revolving simply around the seeds themselves. The challenge was getting a hold of them.

The idea of biomimicry is central to your practice. How do you interpret “nature’s elemental wisdom” in your designs? Can you give an example of how a specific piece embodies this?

I think older designs I’ve made are more interpretive, utilising elements from nature and combining them with other forms. Whereas my current project is more literal. I want nature to speak for itself as opposed to ‘using’ it in a more extractive way. This feels more aligned with celebrating nature, showing gratitude for it. Casting it in this primordial metal that plays on its different types of ‘value.’ Seeds are priceless, they are our lifeblood and casting them in gold is a very overt way of commenting on ‘value.’ What is the value of a seed? Or of a seed comparative to gold. One is life, and the other belongs to a trade system we created. It raises core social, philosophical and economic questions. 

Your pieces feel simultaneously ancient and futuristic. How do you navigate that tension between raw organic form and high-concept design?

I love this question. Ancient and futuristic. It reminds me of a psychoanalytic paper I wrote recently (I am currently training to be a Psychoanalyst) on the memory and imagination continuum. How the past is never viewed as it was but always as we are now, and therefore how it’s reimagined usurps the original memory. And I often think about jewelry and memorialization. Objects cement memories and serve as evidence we existed, and in a way they’re unconscious tools for us to perhaps ease our anxiety about death. The jewelry object lives on after we pass. It’s far more than simply personal expression. Jewels are conduits of multiple things. Time, memory, feeling, place, being.

Many of your works begin with lost wax casting – a technique as old as time. Why did you choose this process, and how does it shape your relationship with the final object?

Tactility is important. When I work with a torch I’m frustrated by the lack of direct handling at certain points, in that you can’t touch heated metal. The malleability of wax is just such a natural thing to me. Like the way we should really be eating food with our hands, touch is an important sense that contributes to taste. In a strange way I see working with wax similarly. It’s just the most natural way to sculpt form. And I love that connection between ancient process and finished form. It’s also always a surprise with casting. You never know exactly what the result will be, and I love that process so much. The surprise of what comes out of the kiln. It requires relinquishing a bit of creative control and allowing for something else to take shape, something other than what I’d imagined. 

There’s something ritualistic about the transformation of seeds into gold. Do you consider your work spiritual, or do you see it more as a material meditation? 

It’s all of that and none of it at the same time. It’s what brings me joy. It challenges me. In terms of seeds specifically I see it more as an homage to nature, as opposed to ritual. Though there is a part of my process that’s definitely meditative, as well as investigative. I become researcher, creator, experimenter. I’m never not learning and that keeps me curious and in wonder. 

From psychology to jewelry – quite a leap. Or maybe not? How does your background in psychology influence your creative process or the way you want your pieces to be experienced?

It may sound like a leap but it actually makes perfect sense. In terms of the psyche there’s both a quietness and loudness to it. It’s hidden and yet our unconscious is driving the human meatsuit most of the time. I love how jewelry serves as a second skin. It reveals and also conceals aspects of the self and the body, creating tension between what we show and hide. It’s can be both silent and obvious information, in a way just like the psyche.

You’ve spoken about contradiction and opposition. Can you tell us about a piece where this duality was especially central – perhaps something that surprised even you in the making?

I think notions of contradiction and opposition are present in all of my pieces. I mean my past aesthetic has mostly been transforming metal into malleable, fabric-like pieces. And this is really an extension of my personality. I’m full of contradictions. We all are.

You’ve collaborated with major names and institutions – Swarovski, and major museums. Do these partnerships shape your creative direction or do you keep your process deliberately insulated?

I feel confident in my creative vision and process and feel perfectly ok passing on projects that don’t feel like a good fit. There was a time where this wasn’t always the case.

The campaign imagery is powerful and introspective. How do you approach art direction and what kind of dialogue do you hope to initiate with your audience through these visuals?

It’s all experimentation and play and creating a visual narrative that I feel aligns with the designs and how I hope they’ll be received. But it’s not only about the jewelry. The one thing that is consistent is my wanting to create imagery that elicits a strong visceral feeling, provokes a new idea or thought. If I’ve managed to do that I’m content. 

You acknowledge the Traditional Owners of the land you live and work on. How does this awareness of place and history feed into your work as an artist? 

Seeds are ancient. Lost wax casting is ancient. Gold is ancient. I’m always thinking about place and privilege and the intergenerational traumas we all bare in different ways. Drawing from nature inherently pays tribute to historical land keepers who maintained and tended to crops so that future generations could prosper. We are the custodians of generations of struggles. Place and history are ‘never not present’ notions. 

Your name – Maripossa – nods to metamorphosis. What has been the most significant transformation in your creative journey so far?

My business was established around a wholesale strategy, so it was about volume initially. I operated that way for a long time. Looking back it’s wild to think about all the stores I’ve worked with, across Australia and also throughout Europe and the US. It’s been a great journey, but during Covid I stepped back from focusing only on wholesale and I’m really enjoying the freedom to create in a way that’s more direct to consumer. Learning to trust my gut about projects, taking risks in the metalsmithing process (as I’m self-taught), learning not to undersell my work – those things have all been transformative happenings along the way.

Jewelry is intimate – worn close to the body, passed down, sometimes forgotten, sometimes rediscovered. What do you want someone to feel when they wear one of your pieces? 

My hope is they feel joy and beauty, embodied, sensual and strong. 

What’s next for Maripossa? Are there materials, collaborations, or directions you’re yearning to explore?

I’m working on a separate line of one-of-a-kind, more high-end pieces. I always enjoy the mystery of things taking on their own lifeforce so I prefer to be a bit loose with my future plans. I’m exploring a few different aesthetics at the moment and looking forward to revealing them in due course.

Maripossa is not just jewelry. It’s artifact, emotion, time capsule, and gesture. It asks you to listen — not just to what you wear, but to what you carry.

To learn more, visit www.maripossa.com.au