Avery in the News

James Avery: A Charmed Life

By Amy Prince, Austin American-Statesman , Glossy
August 26, 2005

Kathy Johnson has spent the past 15 years managing James Avery's mother ship, including one of the company's niche businesses — outfitting Hill Country campers in tiny slivers of sterling silver.

Johnson grew up in Dallas, but annually migrated to Kerrville's Camp Chrysalis just as the weather warmed. And there, she bought her first piece of James Avery jewelry at the camp's canteen. Amid the bottled Dr Peppers and Blue Bell frozen treats, she spotted the signature Chrysalis totem but hadn't packed any cash alongside the bug spray and bathing suits. "I had to borrow the money from my minister!" she laughs.

That was 35 years ago, and "it's been full circle, coming to work for the company, coming back to Kerrville," Johnson says.

Currently celebrating the golden anniversary of James Avery's venture, the silversmith, in large part, got his start selling his designs to camps and campers.

"This was a great way of filtering the James Avery brand out to a larger audience, as campers returned to their hometowns after spending their summers in the Hill Country," explains Sara Hegener, the jeweler's marketing supervisor.

In the beginning, Avery would take his show on the road, toting his jewelry making tools, talking to the kids and doing sketches, says Johnson.

James Avery no longer sells charms at the camps themselves; instead, campers and their parents flock to the Kerrville store.

The enterprise has long since grown to encompass a full range of jewelry, but it still boasts more than 200 special pieces, mostly sterling-silver charms, for 10 local camps, plus custom award jewelry for some of them. For example, at Waldemar, fourth-year girls receive a gold disc finished off with a diamond, which many turn into rings.

"So many of the girls' mothers and even their grandmothers have Waldemar rings," Johnson says.

The camp charms range from $17.50 to about $25 in silver, and upwards of $60 for gold.

Each season, James Avery also adds a year charm, and when necessary, a memento that reflects the name and façade of a new cabin. Though Avery veers toward the classic, such as Lilliputian footlockers and old-fashioned desk fans (modern campers still beat the heat without air conditioning), it stays up with the times. Johnson cites recent favorites as an engravable T-shirt, mini flip-flops, and, of course, a pint-sized cell phone.

Rattling alongside the trendier trinkets are more traditional milestones: years, cabins and favorite activities, from boating and badminton to field hockey and fencing. "The bracelet acts as a time line," Johnson says. And she's seen some prolific ones, three or four charms on a link.

"The average bracelet has 30 links, so that's 90 to 100 charms." (And one busy girl.)

Deborah Gutting of San Antonio was both a camper and a counselor at Kickapoo Kamp, now in its 81st year. She attended as a girl from 1959 to 1968, returning in the early '80s with her own daughter, Ashley Garmon, now an Austin-based photographer. Their charms jingle-jangle with memories.

They both bunked in the Oh Girls cabin. And while Gutting excelled at marksmanship and water-skiing, Garmon loved horseback riding and archery, all chronicled in sterling silver. Both women earned a spot (and its coinciding charm) in the Turtle Club of swimmers and a Firelighter award for being all-around team players.

Garmon remembers a proud moment during the month long sojourn. "If you had the cleanest lodge, the whole cabin of girls, 10 or so, would earn a Sunday trip into town for steaks and banana splits." The cafes and ice cream shops have changed names over the years but the rite of passage hasn't, Gutting adds.

Johnson explains that Avery himself is still active in the genre, recently whipping up a keepsake just for the counselors. One of the Kerrville store's most anticipated afternoons is when the mentors have a day off, she says. They unwind at Mamacita's for lunch then descend on the Kerrville store in groups.

And when the campers themselves stop in, it's a frenzy of intracabin gifting, she says. The bunkmates buy charms for each other, running the little boxes outside to present.

Johnson says that moments later the friend runs back inside, saying, "I have one more to add!"

It's one more to solder between the itty flashlight and the bitty tent, one more diary entry before the summer's end, and a Hill Country custom for 50 years.