Some brands make jewelry. Catbird creates heirlooms in the making.
As Chief Creative Officer of Catbird, Leigh Batnick Plessner has helped shape the Brooklyn-born jewelry brand into something far more than an accessories label. Under her creative direction, Catbird has become known for pieces that feel intimate, enduring, and deeply personal—tiny treasures designed to collect meaning alongside the people who wear them. We’d even go so far as to say that Leigh has built a brand world rooted in emotion rather than excess.
We spoke with Leigh about translating emotion into design, why people are gravitating toward meaningful pieces, and how Catbird continues to grow while holding onto the sense of intimacy that made it beloved in the first place.
Catbird has become known for jewelry that feels deeply personal—almost like a keepsake. How do you translate emotion into something physical and wearable?
Jewelry holds a kind of quiet permanence. It’s one of the few things we wear every day, so close to the body that it can carry meaning and our actual warmth. We’re thinking about how a piece might live with someone over time—how it feels when you first put it on, but also how it gathers memory as the years pass.
There’s a certain restraint in that process. We want to leave space for the wearer to bring themselves to it. That’s where personalization really begins, not just in engraving or customization, but in how it's worn, the drape, the movement of rings as we’re in spirited conversations, the gathering of perfume on a bracelet, the burnishing of time.
Why do you think people are craving more meaning—and less excess—when it comes to what they wear?
Jewelry endures. It moves with you through different chapters, and sometimes even across generations. That sense of durability—both physical and emotional—feels especially resonant right now. We want things that can hold up, not just in quality, but in relevance to our lives, that grow richer with the palimpsest of time.
Your collaborations feel very aligned and thoughtful. What do you look for in a creative partner?
It always begins with a shared emotional language. We’re drawn to artists and collaborators who have a strong inner world and who express that in both a personal and generous way. They allow us to extend the world of Catbird in a way that is still personal and makes our story bigger.
With Japanese Breakfast, the process was incredibly intimate. Michelle brought so much of her own narrative, like her music, her writing, her memories, into the designs. Shooting the campaign in Seoul while she was there studying added another layer of meaning and intention that you can really feel.
As Catbird continues to grow, what does evolution look like without losing what makes it feel so intimate?
Growth, for us, has always been about deepening rather than expanding for its own sake. We think a lot about how to meet people where they are, whether that’s their first small, meaningful piece or something more significant that marks a major life moment.
By widening our assortment thoughtfully, we’re able to stay with our customers over time, across different chapters of their lives. There’s something really special about that continuity, about being part of a personal history. At the same time, we’re careful and very specific in holding onto the feeling that made Catbird what it is. I source everything for our new stores, and still generally fuss over everything the way I have for 20 years. As long as those moments remain considered, growth doesn’t have to come at the expense of identity.
What would be your advice for how someone develops a signature jewelry style that feels personal, not trend-driven?
I think it begins with noticing what you’re drawn to. When I used to work in our teeny tiny first store on Bedford, you could always tell when someone tried on something that they could have walked in wearing. I think that’s a sign, like it's always been there. For me, it's jewelry that makes me feel more like myself. I love when jewelry feels lived-in, a little worn, and glimmering, ready to quietly tell a story.
