I’ve been working with Felipe for a few years now, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s no straightforward path to creation here—especially when it comes to Felipe, our designer. He’s the driving force behind everything, but his process isn’t what you’d call “traditional.” It’s unpredictable, and honestly, a bit chaotic. But somehow, it works, and it’s a big reason why Veragua feels so raw and real.
From Bullshit Job to the Veragua Family
I first met Felipe in the most random way. I’m a musician, and a friend of mine who’s also an artist had made a deal with him. I tagged along when she went to pick her jewelry up, thinking it’d be a quick in-and-out. Instead, I ended up chatting with Felipe, getting to know his work, and being genuinely impressed by what he was doing. A little while later, he posted about needing help, and I figured, why not? I was stuck in a dead-end work-from-home gig with way too much free time. So, I hit him up, we met, and before I knew it, I was Veragua’s newest team member, #3 (haha). We’ve come a long way since then, but the core vibe hasn’t changed—each of us wears a lot of hats, and we keep things running together.
Felipe’s Creative Process (Or Lack of One?)
If you look at Felipe from the outside, it seems like he’s all over the place. And in a way, he is. He’s juggling everything—design, production, business stuff, and everything in between. One day we're at the shop hanging out and another day he is in a meeting with Jessica Goicoechea in Barcelona, with Residente in NY or locked inside the workshop working for days on new stuff. We’re a small team, so we all do a bit of everything, but Felipe carries the heaviest load. It’s like he’s got a million tabs open in his head all the time.
The funny thing is, his creative process looks like a complete rollercoaster. One day, he’s frustrated and feels stuck, saying he can’t find inspiration. This can go on for weeks, and it almost feels like he’s hit a wall. But I’ve realized it’s exactly like what Rick Rubin says about creativity in “The Art of Creation”: “The best ideas often come from discomfort. The feeling of being lost or unsure is part of the process. It’s the universe preparing you to be ready when the moment of clarity arrives.”
Then, out of nowhere, Felipe hits that flow state Rubin talks about. It’s like a switch flips, and suddenly he’s buzzing with energy, showing up with a whole new collection sketched out in his mind. He’s not following anyone’s rules, and that’s why his work feels authentic. It’s rough, it’s unique, and it’s not something you can replicate—even his teacher Jordi, with decades of experience, can’t quite copy it. And that’s what makes it special.
I’ve just learned not to worry when he’s in a slump now. It’s just the calm before the storm.
The Rough Edges That Make It Real
Felipe learned the craft from his teacher, Jordi, who’s been in the jewelry game for over 40 years. It’s hilarious to see Jordi’s face when he looks at Felipe’s work—he always points out the flaws, the rough spots, and the imperfections. But that’s kind of the point. Veragua’s pieces aren’t supposed to be polished or perfect. They’re inspired by nature, by erosion, by the rough textures you find in the wild. The fact that even Jordi, with all his experience, can’t replicate Felipe’s pieces just goes to show how unique they are. His work isn’t about following the rules; it’s about breaking them and making something raw and real.
The Beauty of Creative Chaos
Veragua feels like an extension of Felipe’s mind—unfiltered, a bit disorganized, highly driven. The jewelry, the branding, the shop itself—it’s all a reflection of his creative process. It’s not tidy, and it’s definitely not predictable, but it’s authentic. And that’s what makes it special. It’s been the most inspiring brand I’ve ever worked with as a creative. It’s raw, it’s messy, but it’s got a lot of heart.
I wouldn’t want it any other way. Here’s to the chaos, the hard work, and whatever wild idea comes next. Happy to be here, MFKR.
