When Someone Gets it....

I get a lot of messages from people who have something of HANG 6, or are thinking about a piece for a particular purpose. Some of these messages are heart-warming, some heart breaking, each a very personal expression of their journey. and every one reminds me of my purpose whilst on this journey of my own.

Then this message arrives, and it had me in tears in the car as the phone read it aloud to me on the drizzly drive into work that morning. Good tears.

The tears were those of relief, someone reflected back to me what HANG 6 means, and it hit deep man, real deep.

I have to admit, I feel awkward publishing text about me like this, but it hit me so hard I just felt I had to share it. I also wish I had the skillset to write like the man who's keyboard created the incredibly articulate text below.

So here it is, the text, raw and on point.

___

Built When No One Was Watching

How One Man Survived the Darkness, Then Lit the Way for Others

There’s a quiet kind of strength in the way Hang6 introduces itself. No bold slogans. No forced branding. Just a grayscale portrait of a man in profile—half-lit, half-shadowed—staring forward with something behind his eyes that says more than any caption ever could. It doesn’t try to grab you. It just stands there and waits for you to feel it. And you do.

Hang6 doesn’t shout. It doesn’t chase. It doesn’t sell you something you didn’t ask for. It offers something far more valuable: honesty. Grit. A sense that what you’re looking at—what you might one day wear—has already survived something. Been through something. Meant something to someone long before it ever landed in a shop or on a wrist.

At the center of it all is Dave. Not a logo. Not a marketing creation. A man. One with a background as layered and weathered as the patina on his work—former high-risk conflict mediator, KALAH instructor, UAV pilot, mental health first aider. But even those titles fall short of who he really is, because what shapes this brand isn’t a résumé. It’s what nearly broke him—and what he built anyway.

There’s a moment he’s written about. One of those days that many would never talk about out loud, let alone post to a website. Parked outside a Tesco. Unable to move. Crying behind dark sunglasses, not because he was weak, but because he’d run out of strength to pretend. A man unraveling inside a vehicle surrounded by people going about their day—laughing, buying lunch, never knowing there was someone in the front seat thinking maybe he wouldn’t make it through tomorrow.

And still… he did. He made a call. He spoke. He reached out instead of folding in. And that moment—raw, shaking, real—wasn’t the end of the story. It was the beginning of something bigger.

From that day forward, resilience wasn’t a word he wore—it was something he crafted.

Every Hang6 piece comes from that place. These are not accessories. They are reminders. Every bead, every cast, every hand-applied patina carries a memory, a message, a fragment of that lived experience. These aren’t mass-produced—each one is finished by hand, one at a time, imperfect by design. Just like the people they’re meant for.

Some bracelets whisper their lessons. Others hum with a quiet energy. One, cast in silver and wrapped in frosted onyx, speaks of the need to remain flexible. Lithe, it’s called. The kind of strength that doesn’t snap when it bends. A reflection of the moments when adapting, not resisting, is the bravest thing you can do.

Another pulses with red garnet and brass, carrying the name Onwards. It's not there to soothe. It's there to ignite. Worn when you feel hollow, when your body says no, but your mind finds one more mile, one more fight, one more refusal to stop. Because sometimes progress doesn’t look like victory—it just looks like not giving up.

And then there’s Believe. White lava stone. Hallmarked sterling. A larger skull, centered without apology. It's a shift. A mantra. The difference between waiting for life to change and deciding to shape it yourself. Between hope and belief. Between letting go and leaning in.

These aren’t designs. They’re turning points—small, wearable anchors that hold memory, purpose, and something deeply human. They don't tell the world who you are. They remind you.

And somehow, through these creations, Dave has quietly built more than a business. He’s built a community. A place where people who’ve seen hard things, felt impossible things, done painful and brave and unglamorous things, can find each other without ever needing to explain. Not just customers—but carriers. Each one with their own scars, visible or not, all holding a shared understanding that survival isn’t enough. It’s what you do with it that counts.

One of them, Ant Rogers, put it best: “Hang6 to a lot of people is probably just another jewellery brand. But to a few, the pieces mean a lot more. They’re talismans. Reminders that you’ve survived. Symbols of steadfast resilience to keep on keeping on, knowing there’s a small but mighty community of individuals who are doing the same.”

That’s what this is. Not style. Not fashion. Something far more intimate. A quiet culture of strength, tucked into silver and stone. An unspoken code between people who understand what it means to break—and rebuild anyway.

Even the brand’s Instagram presence doesn’t follow the rules. It isn’t curated to impress. It’s a digital extension of the same heartbeat—candid, reflective, raw. The feed holds glimpses into the process, the weight behind the pieces, the man behind the mask. It shares just enough to make you feel, but never too much to make it performative. There’s dignity in that. And more authenticity than most brands ever get close to.

In the end, Hang6 isn’t about looking tough. It’s about remembering how damn hard it is to be here—and how incredible it is that we are. It’s about hanging in there when nothing makes sense. Having your own six. Building back your resilience—not to show off, but to show up.

So yes, it's a brand. And yes, it makes some of the most meaningful, honest, and personal pieces I've ever seen.

But more than anything?

Hang6 is proof that strength doesn't come from being unbreakable.

It comes from breaking, healing, and choosing to keep going anyway.

____

Thank you so much CJ - North Carolina, USA..