Behind the Scenes: Edinburgh Cobblestone Pendant

In the studio lately, I’ve been working with a piece of Edinburgh itself — a salvaged cobblestone from the Royal Mile. When the street was widened, each stone was lifted, cleaned, and re-laid, and a few extras were set aside. Some of those found their way into cabochons, cut to resemble the original stone “setts” that line this ancient street, and I couldn’t resist turning one into a pendant.

Working with the Cobblestone

The cobblestone cabochon and bezel before setting

I wanted the design to keep a sense of its past. The bezel is castellated, echoing the rhythm of the cobblestones, and at the back I cut a small cobblestone shape so you can see and touch the stone directly. It’s a quiet nod to where it came from — a way of carrying a bit of the city’s history close to you.

Working with it felt different from other materials. The stone has a grounded texture, a mix of granite and basalt, and it catches light in a subtle way — not polished to perfection, but full of character. The copper works beautifully against the black and grey mottled effect and enhances the pink flecks found within the stone. I added a dark patina to the metal to echo the sense of age and history in the cobblestone — a quiet reminder of the years it’s weathered outdoors.  I liked that balance between refinement and honesty; it still feels like something that’s lived outdoors.

When I was shaping the bezel, I kept thinking about the rhythm of the Royal Mile itself — the uneven pattern of the stones, the way light moves across them after rain. Translating that into metal was satisfying; the castellations wrapped around the stone like a tiny street.

Shaping the bezel by hand

The stone freshly set in place

The cobblestone‑shaped window at the back

I used to work in a shop on that stretch between the Castle and Holyrood, and it’s strange to think this pendant began there. It’s easy to pass those stones without noticing them, but working with this Edinburgh cabochon has changed how I see the street — up close, every mark and pattern feels deliberate, and there’s a quiet beauty I’d never noticed before.

This piece was a lot of fun to make. The stone itself formed its own story and connects place, memory, and craft in a way that feels personal — not just decorative.

I’ll be adding this finished pendant to my collection soon. If you’re drawn to pieces with a story behind them, this one feels like a little piece of Edinburgh you can wear.