Behind the Rainbows: The Reality of Making Pride Earrings

The Pride Flag Earrings I Love (and Loathe)

I have a love/hate relationship with the Pride Flag stud earrings I make. I love how they look, what they represent, and the way people’s faces light up when they spot them at my booth—especially because these bright little rainbow pops feel so out of place next to the neutrals and minimalism I usually lean into.

What I don’t love? Making them.

They’re a colossal pain in the ass to get “just right.” And when I hate making something, I usually stop. Doesn’t matter if people like it—if it kills my joy, it’s out. But the Pride Flag jewelry? That’s different.

Every year, I make a new flag before June, and I’ll keep doing it. Not because it’s easy. But because it matters. It's my way of saying, “Here’s what I stand for.”

How the Rainbow Gets Made

Because my background is in science (read: I document everything), my notebook has nearly three pages of notes just on the Rainbow Pride studs alone. I’ve had to remake them twice already this June due to high demand—yay!—and during the second batch, I finally remembered to take process photos. Maybe someday I’ll get around to a video, but today is not that day.

Step 1: I mix up the perfect primary colors of polymer clay. Some come straight from the package, and some require a bit of color mixing. Then I roll each color to an exact thickness using a caliper. Why so precise? Because I offer these in three sizes, and each one requires a slightly different stripe thickness.

Step 2: I carefully stack the stripes in the right order, eliminating air bubbles (those little bastards can ruin everything). Once stacked, I apply even pressure to fuse the layers, then trim the edges into a perfect rectangle—or square, as long as the corners hit that sweet 90-degree angle to avoid wasting clay.

Step 3: I take slices from the end using a tissue blade and roll them through my clay roller. This is never a one-and-done kind of step—it takes trial and error. If I get it right, I can usually make two different earring sizes from a single stack.

Then I place the rainbow slices on a ceramic tile and cut out the shapes.

What Happens to the Scraps?

This is where it gets fun.

I end up with a pile of rainbow scraps. But I never waste them.

First, any failed slices that are too big for my standard studs get turned into one-off square Pride Flag earrings.

Next, I gather the too-small scraps and mush them into a swirled rainbow slab. I cut out whatever shapes feel right in the moment.

Then, the leftover swirl scraps get smushed again—this time into a tightly striped snake. I make a matching black snake and slice both into little segments to form the beginning of a bargello pattern (I learned this from this amazing tutorial on YouTube—highly recommend if you're curious).

Finally, the very last bit of leftover clay gets tossed into my “ugly scrap” drawer. That’s where I test new techniques—no guilt, no pressure, no wasting the good stuff.

So yeah, these earrings are a pain. But they’re also powerful. They’re a little bright spot at my booth. A tiny, colorful reminder that visibility matters—and I’ll keep making them, imperfect process and all.