One afternoon last summer, two young women visited Catbird’s Soho shop in New York. They watched as their friend’s wrist was adorned with a flash of white-blue light. “It looks so good. My turn next,” one exclaimed.
They were there to “get zapped,” securing fine gold chain bracelets with welded jump-rings instead of traditional clasps, making them non-removable unless cut off. These welded bracelets, also called forever, eternal, or seamless bracelets, represent a new trend in experiential jewelry, akin to friendship bracelets for the TikTok generation.
“It’s a lovely bonding experience to do with a friend, sibling, or mom,” says Marisa Hordern, founder and creative director of Missoma, a London-based jewelry brand offering welding services. Their 14k gold chain bracelets start at £95.
People choose permanent bracelets for various reasons. One woman received hers as a bridesmaid gift. Another got hers after her second child’s birth, with charms of her children’s birthstones on the chain. Another appreciated the convenience of always having a bracelet on. None regretted their decision, with Catbird founder Rony Vardi noting, “It’s not like anyone’s ever said, ‘Oh, look at this clasp, it’s so beautiful.’”
Vardi recalls jewellers experimenting with welded chains and realizing customers might like them. When Catbird introduced welding in 2017, the response was slow at first. “Then suddenly, there were lines out the door,” she says. Since then, Catbird has zapped over 160,000 Forever Bracelets, with about 17,000 in 2024 alone. “Buying jewelry is an intimate experience, and this elevates it,” Vardi adds.
For some, a permanent bracelet evokes nostalgia, reminiscent of summer-camp friendship bracelets or BFF necklaces. At Monica Vinader, which began offering permanent bracelets in October 2023, the most popular appointment is “Welding for Two,” highlighting its popularity as a modern friendship bracelet, according to a brand spokesperson.
Connie Nam, founder of London-based Astrid & Miyu, says customers come in groups to celebrate milestones. She introduced permanent bracelets in 2019, but the service gained popularity post-pandemic after a TikTok video of a couple getting bracelets went viral. Even the Beckhams visited for family bracelets.
The hands-on process and promise of permanence draw comparisons to body piercings and tattoos, though Vardi finds this amusing. “It’s not like a tattoo—you can just snip it off with scissors,” she says. “And it’s not like a piercing, because there’s no fear or medical concerns.”
A more fitting comparison might be the Cartier Love bracelet, a unisex bangle secured with a tiny screwdriver. Fifty-five years after its introduction, it remains a sought-after piece, especially as a gift for new mothers.
I’ve never desired one—it feels too transactional. I prefer Cartier’s Juste un Clou or Tiffany’s Elsa Peretti Bone Cuff. Women wearing one on each wrist remind me of Wonder Woman or a chic alter ego.
Reflecting on the bracelets gathering dust in my wardrobe because I forget to wear them or struggle with the clasps, Vardi’s remark about the elegance of a permanent bracelet resonates: “It’s nice to forget about it. And then the sun touches it, and you have this gentle glimmer.”
At Astrid & Miyu’s Carnaby Street store, I chose the Piccadilly, a paper clip design. The jeweller measured my wrist, cut the chain, and connected the links with a tiny ring, protecting my skin with a leather mat. Two flashes of the laser welder, and it was done.
Admiring the subtle gleam on my wrist as I left the store, I wondered if it felt permanent. Not exactly—it’s a bracelet, not a marriage. But it’s an adornment I could enjoy for a while. A thing of beauty is a joy forever, or until I choose to take it off.