Archive Page - 12/1/12 39 years, 2,083 covers and 53,323 stories from PEOPLE magazine's history for you to enjoy
Latest News!
- Harley Pasternak: Why You Shouldn't End Your Love Affair with Chocolate
- Sean Parker Says He and Wife 'Spat Upon' as Part of Intense Wedding Backlash
- What Is Happening in Miley Cyrus's New Video?
- Blake & Miranda Are Jetting to Oklahoma to Do 'Husband and Wife Things'
- PHOTO: Gisele Bündchen Practices with Her Little Yogini
On Newsstands Now
- Kim's Delivery Room Drama!
- Katie: A Year After Split
- Princess Kate: Palace's Baby Plan Revealed
Pick up your copy on newsstands
Click here for instant access to the Digital Magazine
People Top 5
LAST UPDATE: Wednesday June 19, 2013 04:10PM EDT
PEOPLE Top 5 are the most-viewed stories on the site over the past three days, updated every 60 minutes
- May 07, 1979
- Vol. 11
- No. 18
Gold Is Lovely and Diamonds Are Forever, but Bonwillum Creates Jewelry Out of Plain Old Wood
Relax. No one's chopping down redwoods and sneaking the logs to Bonwillum, the hottest new jewelry company on Seventh Avenue. Bonnie and William Duncan get nearly half the timber they turn into high-fashion trinkets out of old swamps and dumps in New Jersey. The rest they buy from wholesalers or from Bill's father, who ships them Osage orange from Nebraska. "I am a scrounger," says 38-year-old Bill. "I like to cruise for wood. I'm no tree murderer."
He is in fact a skilled sculptor whose beads decorate the mannequins of designers like Stephen Burrows and Oscar de la Renta. "Calvin Klein has also flipped over natural woods," adds 37-year-old Bonnie. Recently the Bonwillum line, which is sold in Saks, Henri Bendel, Neiman-Marcus and I. Magnin, has been turning up on believers like Ali MacGraw, model Jerry Hall, Suzanne Somers, Marie Osmond and even Yul Brynner.
All this visibility has created one ironic problem. "Because it's wood, people think our prices should be dime-store cheap," complains Bonnie. "For years the market didn't understand our beads." In a large West Side loft, the Duncans and their close-knit staff of seven work with 36 varieties of hardwood ("never with dying species like elm"), often painting every piece by hand. "Americans are not used to paying for American hand labor," says Bonnie. "But we sit here and carve everything. Each of our teardrop earrings is like a little sculpture, done one at a time." Of their 50 pieces—bracelets, necklaces, haircombs, earrings and pins—the cheapest is a rosewood bobby pin at $4.50, the costliest a $950 satinwood brooch with semiprecious citrine. Bill is proudest of the swimmer's comb he calls "the Bearclaw." "Bonnie jogs and swims in it," he says happily. "And her hair always stays in place. She can even make love wearing it."
Both Duncans were born Midwesterners. Bonnie, who handles the marketing, grew up in Sturgis, Mich. and graduated from the state university ('65) before coming to New York, where she worked for a stockbroker. Bill, design and production chief, started whittling jewelry as a teenager in Omaha. After studying at art institutes in San Francisco and Kansas City, he moved to New York in 1968.
They met at a birthday party in 1972, 10 months after Bill had separated from his first wife. "He had a fluffy beard and twinkling eyes," she remembers. "We had two more dates and that was it. From then on we were inseparable." Moonlighting from her Wall Street job, Bonnie helped Bill peddle his beads on the sidewalk outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In 1976, the year they got married, their luck changed. Alert to the budding vogue for haircombs, Bill started carving them in rosewood and walnut. Bendel's snapped them up and the family firm, Bonwillum, was launched. "Those combs fed us for months," says Bill.
Yet, in spite of dazzling credits in Harper's Bazaar and Vogue, the Duncans are just barely staying in business these days. "The rent and taxes are overwhelming," says Bill. "We have been pouring all of our lives, our time and our money into this business. We have laid it on the line. It's a real dice roll."
He is in fact a skilled sculptor whose beads decorate the mannequins of designers like Stephen Burrows and Oscar de la Renta. "Calvin Klein has also flipped over natural woods," adds 37-year-old Bonnie. Recently the Bonwillum line, which is sold in Saks, Henri Bendel, Neiman-Marcus and I. Magnin, has been turning up on believers like Ali MacGraw, model Jerry Hall, Suzanne Somers, Marie Osmond and even Yul Brynner.
All this visibility has created one ironic problem. "Because it's wood, people think our prices should be dime-store cheap," complains Bonnie. "For years the market didn't understand our beads." In a large West Side loft, the Duncans and their close-knit staff of seven work with 36 varieties of hardwood ("never with dying species like elm"), often painting every piece by hand. "Americans are not used to paying for American hand labor," says Bonnie. "But we sit here and carve everything. Each of our teardrop earrings is like a little sculpture, done one at a time." Of their 50 pieces—bracelets, necklaces, haircombs, earrings and pins—the cheapest is a rosewood bobby pin at $4.50, the costliest a $950 satinwood brooch with semiprecious citrine. Bill is proudest of the swimmer's comb he calls "the Bearclaw." "Bonnie jogs and swims in it," he says happily. "And her hair always stays in place. She can even make love wearing it."
Both Duncans were born Midwesterners. Bonnie, who handles the marketing, grew up in Sturgis, Mich. and graduated from the state university ('65) before coming to New York, where she worked for a stockbroker. Bill, design and production chief, started whittling jewelry as a teenager in Omaha. After studying at art institutes in San Francisco and Kansas City, he moved to New York in 1968.
They met at a birthday party in 1972, 10 months after Bill had separated from his first wife. "He had a fluffy beard and twinkling eyes," she remembers. "We had two more dates and that was it. From then on we were inseparable." Moonlighting from her Wall Street job, Bonnie helped Bill peddle his beads on the sidewalk outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In 1976, the year they got married, their luck changed. Alert to the budding vogue for haircombs, Bill started carving them in rosewood and walnut. Bendel's snapped them up and the family firm, Bonwillum, was launched. "Those combs fed us for months," says Bill.
Yet, in spite of dazzling credits in Harper's Bazaar and Vogue, the Duncans are just barely staying in business these days. "The rent and taxes are overwhelming," says Bill. "We have been pouring all of our lives, our time and our money into this business. We have laid it on the line. It's a real dice roll."
More in the Archive
Advertisement
Cover Collections View All
Today's Photos
Treat Yourself! 4 Preview Issues
The most buzzed about stars this minute!
Promotion









