By Amanda Duan, Belmont Voice correspondent
The machine groaned as John d’Arbeloff turned the crank, pressing silver through cardboard and cheesecloth until the metal emerged with an imprint of woven texture.
After 30 years in the clothing business, the 65-year-old founder of RailRiders adventure wear has launched a new venture. The Belmont resident said his handcrafted jewelry line fuses his passion for artistic design with his love of the ocean.
“I love birthing things,” said d’Arbeloff. “I love designing and seeing it come to fruition. I look at something raw, and then a light bulb goes off, and I know exactly what I’m going to do.”
He started RailRiders in his 20s after deciding sailors deserved better sports gear. His first product—padded foul-weather shorts—helped racers “ride the rail” along a sailboat’s edges.
As his company matured, d’Arbeloff began imagining his next business.
“Pottery was too messy,” he said. “I ended up looking like a little chocolate muffin.”
Years of seaside walks with his daughter Margaux sparked the idea for the jewelry business.
“I always envisioned what we picked up, sea glass or shells, as jewelry,” he said. “And I said to myself, ‘I’m just gonna do this.’ ”
He enrolled in a beginner’s jewelry-making class in Waltham. Within weeks, he had found a new obsession, and soon, a new studio.
“John’s constantly pulling from nature,” said Jill d’Arbeloff, his sister-in-law. “Just like the outdoor gear, you see it in the leaves, the sea glass, the gemstones.”
His jewelry often begins at the beach. He and Margaux, a skilled sailor and artist herself, collect pieces of sea glass worn smooth by the tide. He wraps them in silver wire, drills delicate holes underwater to reduce the risk of breakage, and weaves them into jewelry that shimmers with coastal light.
He experiments restlessly in his home studio. Some nights he hammers copper into new patterns; other days he melts and recasts silver ingots.
“The thing about art is that sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t,” he said, laughing. “You just redo it, and it becomes something else.”
During a recent visit to his studio, light spilled over two long tables crowded with grinders, tumblers, and trays of tiny hammers and pliers. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with labeled boxes of silver wire and copper sheets.
“By the middle of the second class, this blossomed,” d’Arbeloff said. “Seven thousand dollars later, I have my own studio.”
It’s a far cry from RailRiders, which made $3 million in sales annually, but the enterprise is rooted in the same love of nature that shaped his clothing line. According to d’Arbeloff, his latest venture draws on his instincts for design, from outfitting sailors to crafting jewelry inspired by the sea.
The pieces, sold on his RailRiders website under the Adventure Jewelry section, carry the same sense of motion that helped him build his outdoor clothing business.
“The ocean is an adventure,” he said. “That’s where this all started. Walking the beach with my daughter, seeing what we could do with it.”
Those who know d’Arbeloff describe him as endlessly curious, yet very much a family man at heart.
“He’s a devoted dad,” said longtime friend David Cella, who met him when their daughters were in kindergarten. “He likes to share his interests with his daughter and spend time with her, and that’s what I’ve seen consistently.”
Jill d’Arbeloff echoed a similar sentiment.
“He’s incredibly loving and always willing to help,” she said. “He’s the one who’ll show up with tools if someone needs a hand.”
D’Arbeloff still coaches his creativity like he once coached soccer.
“You learn from doing,” he said. “Sometimes you bleed a lot in this pool, but you get better each time.”
He credits his drive to a lifelong refusal to stand still. He grew up in Cambridge during the 1960s, studied art, and spent years sailing the Caribbean.
“A body in motion stays in motion,” he said. “You gotta exercise your muscles, your brain, your creativity.”
That philosophy has carried him from design sketches to soldering benches, from the open sea to the quiet hum of his basement studio. Friends say the shift is another outlet for the curiosity that’s always kept him moving.
“He’s energized by it,” Cella said. “At our age, you don’t often see someone dive into something completely new, but he’s doing it with full curiosity and joy.”
D’Arbeloff’s next goal is to learn casting, a process of melting silver into molds. He said he doesn’t measure success by sales or followers.
“It’s not about mass-producing,” he said. “Every piece is unique. It’s about creating something that feels alive.”
Back at the studio, a bracelet glints under the light. The former sailor turns it over in his hands, the way he might inspect a line or a sail.
“I don’t know where it’s going,” he said, smiling, “but I know I’m having a hell of a time getting there.”
