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Ashley Harris

The Brooklyn-based jewelry designer Ashley Harris imbues her creations with a sense of spontaneity, whether she’s working with Murano glass, vintage coins, or precious stones. Each of her eclectic beaded sequences — created as bracelets, necklaces, wraps, and charms for her line, Don’t Let Disco — carries a singular energy. In Harris’s world, as in Emme Parsons’, objects carry stories and spirit. On the wearer’s body, our creations come to life.

PHOTOS BY: WILL NIELSEN

How would you describe your style?

Classic with an edge. Think clean lines and familiar silhouettes, but always with a little twist: a sharp metal, an odd bead, or a detail that keeps it from feeling too polite.

Who or what is currently inspiring you? Sartorially, culturally or otherwise?

Lately I have been drawn to the tension between permanence and play. I am inspired by people who dress like they have edited their closets down to the essentials, then quietly slip in something unruly such as a strange earring or a shoe in the wrong but perfect color. Culturally, I'm always looking back as much as forward: family photos, old auction listings, museum vitrines. The friction between nostalgia and newness is where I feel most awake.

Tell us about your brand and how it came to be.

I've been obsessed with jewelry since I was tiny. In every childhood photo I'm the kid with painted nails, a little purse, and at least three bangles on one arm. Jewelry has always felt like one of our oldest languages, an intimate and portable way to say who we are or who we want to be.

Don't Let Disco grew out of that feeling. I love looking to the past, from Victorian curiosities to Art Deco geometry to flea market finds, and then reimagining them for right now. Beads, gemstones, precious metals, and found objects become small, wearable stories. The goal is to make pieces that feel both familiar and slightly off kilter, like something you have inherited and also just discovered.



What is your current favorite shoe from Emme Parsons, and how do you style it?

This is a genuinely difficult question because I am a textbook Libra and decisions are not my strongest trait. If I could, I would probably own the Delicat in every color.

I keep a bordeaux pair in my studio because my days often run straight into dinners or events, and they are wildly chic while still being comfortable. During the day I am usually in Emme Parsons Monceaux loafers as I move between my studio and 47th Street, meeting with my diamond dealer, stone setter, and other vendors. I end up in a kind of loop: Monceaux loafers for the circuit of errands and production, Delicats for pretending I've not been working all day.

Guilty or not so guilty pleasure?

Long, overly specific vintage searches on the internet. I tell myself I am “just looking” and then suddenly I am deep in 1980s Italian costume jewelry or antique silver. It is research, of course, but it is also absolutely not.



What is the best piece of advice you have ever received and why?

“Edit, do not erase.” It was originally about writing, but it fits everything from design to getting dressed to building a brand. You do not have to reinvent yourself every time. You refine, you keep what feels true, and you gently let go of what no longer does.

Favorite gift to give?

Hyper specific vintage tees. I love finding something that feels almost uncannily tailored to a person’s history. Once, for a friend who is devoted to a very niche regional birdwatching club, I tracked down a faded 1990s tee from one of their earliest fundraising drives. She had never seen it before, but the logo was so specific that it felt like a secret handshake. I like gifts that feel like proof someone has been paying attention.