Lisa and I met about eight years ago at a mutual friend’s birthday party in Bellport, Long Island. A bunch of us packed into a rental house for the weekend and Lisa and I had adjoining air mattresses. Actually, thinking of that weekend makes me think we were somewhat destined to do this collaboration. Lisa had an early prototype for a necklace she was working on and it went missing. I was upstairs, changing in one of the bedrooms, and I found it.

The novel tells the story of three college friends who are, on the one hand, like family and, on the other, on the precipice of never speaking again (which I suppose is the same thing, depending on your family). I wanted to capture that time period and those personalities while also paying tribute to one of my favorite art forms — the short story. I was home one night, pacing around my apartment, and I reread Guy de Maupassant’s famous short story, “The Necklace.” I was struck by how clean and beautiful it was, how deceptively simple and how the themes not only held up but applied to every one of my characters.

2. If you like literary books that are also suspenseful books that also remind you of a cross between The Emperor’s Children, The Goonies and a flaky croissant, you might like this.

3. It’s just under 400 pages. So it’s portable but you wouldn’t want to drop it on your foot. I think that’s a good barometer for literature.

The book took five years from start to finish so even if I weren’t writing a novel, even if I was just staring at the walls for five years, I would learn something about myself. But what pops out is patience. I learned how to hold onto a story without choking it to death or knowing the end, to trust myself to go in the right direction, to write from the perspective of two men and one woman, all of whom live in worlds so different from mine. One works in tech, one works in Hollywood and one, of course, works for an independent jewelry designer.

The story of “The Necklace” is the story of a valuable necklace that turns out to be a fake. The story of The Clasp is the story of two necklaces, one fake and one real but missing. Or so we think. The question of realness is threaded (pun, sorry) throughout the novel, both when it comes to people and to jewelry. Lisa works with such beautiful materials and I asked her if she’d be interested in creating a fake necklace that looked real based on a real novel about a fake necklace based on a real story about a fake necklace that everyone thinks is real. Simple. I also showed her a sketch that I found from the late 19th century. I had it pinned above my desk while I was writing The Clasp and so the same actual necklace that I described in the book also inspired our design for the Lulu necklace.

Giddy up because this is about to get gross as I quote from own book. There’s a scene during which one of the characters explains to the other that “jewelry is as alive as whomever it touches.” I believe that. Where it’s scratched and dented or polished, the photographs it does or does not appear in, the time periods or specific moments when it was worn, when you lost it, when you found it again. It’s art and it’s craftsmanship but jewelry is also a keeper of memory.

Define.

I made a book trailer for The Clasp with Amanda Seyfried and I stared at various versions of that trailer for so long, that my first instinct is to wear it with a button-down and a cardigan. I also love the idea of pairing it with anything solid — a black or neon dress. It really is perfect for a holiday party. Though looking at what I already own? I will wear it with Courtshop jeans, a T-shirt, Rachel Comey boots and a black tuxedo jacket. I like the idea of arriving at an event wearing the drab sleeping bag I call a coat, knowing that this necklace is underneath.

1. The Nightshade Cuff

2. Atrium Statement Necklace

3. Rose gold CODE Number rings. Rose gold reminds me of my mother.

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. It’s the longest word in the English language. It’s meaning isn’t so hot (black lung disease) but my goal is more stones here.

I don’t have one but if I had to pick, probably 7. Back when people were listening to full albums, track 7 was always reliably good for some reason.

“The genius in the room is the one most like himself.” —Thelonious Monk

The answer to this question changes but right now it’s pretty clearly Guy de Maupassant. I would take him out in Manhattan. Maybe dinner at Raoul’s (he’d like the food) and then to The Bowery Hotel (he’d like the décor and the history) and then to Happy Ending (he’d like the ladies). Though I wouldn’t ever be alone with him. Too handsy. But I’d ask him to describe for me, in detail, what it was like to lose his mind.

This sounds like something out of a Portlandia sketch, but I keep it in an antique Dutch spice cabinet I bought at a flea market. It's got china drawers that say things like "koffie" and "rijst." The salt drawers are filled with rings, the tea drawer with bracelets. To keep the chains from tangling, I hang necklaces in the cabinet meant for eggs.

Fly. Or electively give animals the power of human speech.

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Finish things.