Before moving to their current location in New York's Fashion District, Philip and Courtney Crangi, the siblings behind Giles & Brother, worked from a tiny space in the Meatpacking District, making the most of the McDonald's dollar menu.
"When we got this place ten years ago, we were running around and Philip was yelling, 'Look! Look! If you come over to this window you can see the Empire State Building—we've totally made it!'" Courtney remembers. Since then, Giles & Brother has gone from strength to strength, establishing its hardware-inspired cuffs and charm necklaces as cult favorites.
Last week, Brayden and I tracked down the Crangis' studio amid a row of secondhand phone shops and fabric stores off Seventh Avenue, to ask some questions and snoop around.
Shop all Giles & Brother by Philip Crangi here.
Alice Newell-Hanson: So where did you guys grow up?
Philip Crangi: In Boca Raton, Florida, which was interesting, as you can imagine. We really had a lot of different nutters in the family: granddaddy who lived in the Everglades and our other grandmother, who was an interior decorator until two years ago—and she’s 98.
Courtney Crangi: She stopped working at 96. She’s pretty amazing. I think she probably decorated the Golden Girls' apartment.
ANH: I bet there's amazing jewelry down there. It’s the homeland of costume jewelry.
PC: Well, there are lots of estate sales in Florida, because there are so many people going there, bringing all their possessions, and then dropping dead. But I was influenced more by the things that weren’t there, like I was obsessed with finding treasure.
ANH: When I’m in Florida I always see people with their metal detectors....
CC: That’s like me when I retire. When I disappear one day—and it won’t be to Florida—I’ll be on a beach with a really amazing metal detector and headphones. I’ll be hanging out with all the old men, finding things. When I went to the beach I’d always walk with those guys and ask them questions. I love the idea of buried treasure. I’m definitely nostalgic for the Florida that doesn’t exist anymore, from our childhood.
ANH: Do you think that comes across in the jewelry? Are there specific pieces that have strong ties to being a kid in Florida?
PC: I don’t consciously reference it. I reference what I felt when I grew up there, which was that something was missing. I like the work to seem out of time and space, like it could be vintage, new, or from the future.
CC: We were left to create that world for ourselves because where we grew up was absolutely void of culture; everything is new and sprawling. I can remember always feeling like I was not supposed to be there. When people came to visit and got in their cars to drive away I’d tell them, “Take me with you! I’m not supposed to be here!”
ANH: What did you guys get up to in after-school time?
CC: You can imagine what I’d do. Let’s just say it was the days before crystal meth so it wasn’t that bad!
PC: I stayed home and drew and watched TV. That’s all I wanted to do, I wanted to be left alone to do that.
CC: Philips’s projects [were incredible], even in the fourth grade! He made an entire suit of armor out of cardboard. I was his assistant, so he'd tell me all the things I needed to cut out. Then he got really into making chain mail. I mean, he had no idea how to do it, but he figured it out!
ANH: How did you both end up in New York?
"When we got this place ten years ago, we were running around and Philip was yelling, 'Look! Look! If you come over to this window you can see the Empire State Building—we've totally made it!'" Courtney remembers. Since then, Giles & Brother has gone from strength to strength, establishing its hardware-inspired cuffs and charm necklaces as cult favorites.
Last week, Brayden and I tracked down the Crangis' studio amid a row of secondhand phone shops and fabric stores off Seventh Avenue, to ask some questions and snoop around.
Shop all Giles & Brother by Philip Crangi here.
Alice Newell-Hanson: So where did you guys grow up?
Philip Crangi: In Boca Raton, Florida, which was interesting, as you can imagine. We really had a lot of different nutters in the family: granddaddy who lived in the Everglades and our other grandmother, who was an interior decorator until two years ago—and she’s 98.
Courtney Crangi: She stopped working at 96. She’s pretty amazing. I think she probably decorated the Golden Girls' apartment.
ANH: I bet there's amazing jewelry down there. It’s the homeland of costume jewelry.
PC: Well, there are lots of estate sales in Florida, because there are so many people going there, bringing all their possessions, and then dropping dead. But I was influenced more by the things that weren’t there, like I was obsessed with finding treasure.
ANH: When I’m in Florida I always see people with their metal detectors....
CC: That’s like me when I retire. When I disappear one day—and it won’t be to Florida—I’ll be on a beach with a really amazing metal detector and headphones. I’ll be hanging out with all the old men, finding things. When I went to the beach I’d always walk with those guys and ask them questions. I love the idea of buried treasure. I’m definitely nostalgic for the Florida that doesn’t exist anymore, from our childhood.
ANH: Do you think that comes across in the jewelry? Are there specific pieces that have strong ties to being a kid in Florida?
PC: I don’t consciously reference it. I reference what I felt when I grew up there, which was that something was missing. I like the work to seem out of time and space, like it could be vintage, new, or from the future.
CC: We were left to create that world for ourselves because where we grew up was absolutely void of culture; everything is new and sprawling. I can remember always feeling like I was not supposed to be there. When people came to visit and got in their cars to drive away I’d tell them, “Take me with you! I’m not supposed to be here!”
ANH: What did you guys get up to in after-school time?
CC: You can imagine what I’d do. Let’s just say it was the days before crystal meth so it wasn’t that bad!
PC: I stayed home and drew and watched TV. That’s all I wanted to do, I wanted to be left alone to do that.
CC: Philips’s projects [were incredible], even in the fourth grade! He made an entire suit of armor out of cardboard. I was his assistant, so he'd tell me all the things I needed to cut out. Then he got really into making chain mail. I mean, he had no idea how to do it, but he figured it out!
ANH: How did you both end up in New York?