Today we’d like to introduce you to Sugar Gay Isber McMillan.
Hi Sugar Gay, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I’m Sugar Gay Isber McMillan, a Texas-based author, educator, and lifelong creative who has never been very good at standing still. I launched my first creative business in Canada, where I owned and operated two retail stores and created jewelry for the CN Tower before returning home to Texas during the 2010 economic downturn. A seventh-generation Texan, I landed in Austin and opened The Sugar Factory on Koenig Lane, a storefront filled with handmade jewelry, artwork, and big ideas.
Instead of slowing down, I went back to school and earned a degree in information technology from the University of Texas, then promptly blended creativity with technology and teaching. Over the past year alone, I’ve published more than 80 books, including the Record Your Life series on preserving voices and memories, adult coloring books that sneak art history into your lap, and fiction and nonfiction projects centered on modern storytelling. I’ve had a fun life, and I’m not done yet.
Today, I teach adults, speak publicly about creativity, legacy, and reinvention, and continue building an ecosystem where learning, making, and meaningful connections all belong in the same room.
When I’m not creating, you’ll usually find me at Little Star Ranch, our art-filled cabin near Lake Somerville, plotting whatever comes next, plus feeding the deer and birds.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Has it been a smooth road? No. Not even close.
I make interesting jewelry for interesting people, and the hardest part has been finding those people at scale. I know they exist. I just haven’t always aligned with the right retailers or wholesale partners who truly understand bold, editorial work. My pieces are not subtle. They’re meant for entrance-makers, for film, television, fashion shoots, and people who want to be remembered.
I’m a maker at heart. I love working with fossils, minerals, and gems, and I’ve invested heavily in vintage materials sourced from old warehouses in places like Rhode Island and New York. I’ve been intentional about keeping my work made in the U.S., using materials from a time when jewelry was treated as art, not fast fashion. That commitment matters to me, but it also makes the business side harder.
The real struggle has been sales. Artists are often expected to be their own marketers, retailers, and distributors, and that doesn’t always come naturally. I have a room full of finished pieces, hundreds of one-of-a-kind works, each waiting for the right home. They’re ready. They just need the right audience.
To support my creative work, I’ve taken on full-time roles with large companies, working remotely for several years until those programs were recently eliminated. That shift forced me to pivot again. I’m still creating, still writing, still teaching, and still building. The work has always been there. The challenge has been aligning vision with visibility.
And if someone is looking for bold, beautifully made jewelry with a story behind it, I have plenty to choose from.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
What do I do? I make statement jewelry for people who don’t want to disappear in a room.
I specialize in bold, one-of-a-kind pieces made from fossils, shark teeth, vintage pearls, minerals, and gems, often built on decades-old chains sourced from forgotten warehouses. I don’t follow trends. I build characters. Every piece starts with a question: Who is going to wear this, and where are they going when they do? A gala, a boardroom, a movie set, a wedding, a moment that matters. Then I design for that life.
I’ve been obsessed with shark teeth since childhood. My father was a dentist, so teeth were always part of the conversation, and that fascination never left me. Years later, that obsession turned into a signature style and even landed one of my shark-tooth necklaces in a film, where the tooth became a character in its own right. That still makes me smile.
What sets me apart is the scale and history of what I work with. I have miles of vintage chain, hundreds of thousands of pearls, and a deep personal archive of materials I’ve collected for decades. I can make almost anything, but I choose to make pieces that feel powerful, wearable, and unforgettable.
What I’m most proud of is this: my jewelry isn’t mass-produced, anonymous, or polite. It’s made for people who want to be seen, remembered, and talked about. If that sounds like you, I’m probably already designing something with your name on it.
Can you talk to us about how you think about risk?
Have I taken risks? Constantly. I don’t think I’ve ever built anything in my life without risk baked into it.
I take risks by showing up, even when I know the answer might be no. Just this week, I walked a full tray of my jewelry into one of Austin’s oldest and most respected rock shops. They know me well. They’ve bought large fossils and even a massive dinosaur bone from me in the past. This time, I wasn’t asking to sell a single piece. I proposed a trunk show leading up to South by Southwest. The answer was no.
That’s familiar territory for me. Not because the work isn’t strong. It’s museum-quality, editorial, and unapologetically bold. The real risk has always been navigating gatekeepers who underestimate how sparkle stops people in their tracks. I’ve spent years designing window displays, including work connected to Tiffany & Co., and I understand the power of those first three seconds when someone pauses, looks, and is hooked. That moment matters. Many buyers don’t see it, or they’re afraid of it.
I also take risks by designing for people who don’t want to blend in. Not everyone wants a tiny dot of jewelry that disappears. My private clients want presence. If they’re wearing an extraordinary outfit, they want something spectacular to finish the look. Brides, especially, are often taught to copy what they see in magazines rather than imagine what will truly photograph well or feel like themselves. Pearls move. Pearls glow. Pearls tell stories. I’ve watched beautiful work sit untouched simply because it didn’t match the narrow idea of what’s expected.
My view on risk is simple. Playing it safe rarely creates anything memorable. The biggest risk I take is continuing to design for people who want to be noticed, even when the market tells me to shrink, simplify, or soften. I believe the wow factor matters. I believe jewelry completes the story. And I’m willing to keep stepping into rooms, opening cases, and hearing no until I find the people who immediately understand why that yes is worth it.
That’s the risk I’m most comfortable taking.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.gayisber.com
- Instagram: @SugarGayIsber
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SUGARGISBER.gayrobbins
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sugargayisbermcmillan/
- Other: https://www.theWOWBookCo.com
Image Credits
I took the image
