Every key belongs to something.
A gunmetal stainless steel box chain lariat, gathered at the chest by a single open ring, dropping long to a vintage-style numbered key charm. The number stamped into the head — 125 — reads like a secret address. A room someone remembers. A door that mattered.
Minimal in construction, loaded in meaning. The kind of piece that makes people ask.
Tarnish-resistant stainless steel. Worn long, worn open, worn like you know something they don’t.