Our Story
TinKiu was never meant to be a brand.
It began with a single ring. Garbo, our founder, made for herself, after her grandfather passed away in 2023.
She was looking for something to hold onto. Something small, but tangible. So she made a ring that carried a photo of her late grandpa and herself.
Not tucked away in a drawer, or lost somewhere in a phone, but right there in her hand, every single day.
That ring became part of how her learned to grieve. And slowly, she realized that if it could comfort she, it might do the same for someone else.
The Name
When Garbo was a child, the way to her grandparents’ home led across a bridge: a 天橋 (tin kiu).
To the little Garbo, it never felt like just a bridge. It felt like walking through the clouds, toward the people she loved most.
TinKiu became the name because that’s what these pieces are - a quiet bridge between the ones we carry in our hearts and the life that continues around us.
The Craft
Each TinKiu piece is shaped by memory, but also by heritage.
The people who make these pieces are paid fairly, with full support and protection - because the way something is made carries its own kind of meaning.
Some pieces hold a photograph, others carry memory through stone, texture, and form.
And each one is made to hold something personal.
What We Believe
TinKiu is not just jewelry.
It’s a way of keeping something close: a person, a moment, a slipping feeling that moved you.
It could be a wedding day. A friend. A quiet memory that still lingers.
These are pieces meant to be worn every day, to age with you, and to be passed on.
Because some things are too important to leave behind.
TinKiu, Keep them close.
Garbo's Story
Garbo Zhu was born and raised in Guangzhou, just a short walk from her grandparents' home. It was a world of crowded streets, family dinners, and Cantonese spoken everywhere, very different from the life she lives now. That distance, and everything she carried across it, still shapes everything she makes.
She trained as an architect, spending years thinking about how spaces hold people. Then in 2020, she bought a bag of clay online, and everything shifted. By 2022 she had left architecture to work with her hands full time.
That work became Grumpy Kid Studio, known for its little grumpy faces tucked onto everyday objects. The pieces caught on fast. At its peak, Garbo had a team of five and every drop sold out within minutes. But the pace wore her down. Burnt out and craving something with more meaning, she closed the studio in 2023 to build TinKiu.
Today Garbo is a potter, designer, founder, and mom, sharing her life in clay with a community of millions online. Whether she's making a stool for her son or a ring for someone's grandmother, she's always chasing the same thing: turning the people and moments we love into something we can hold.
Our initial prototype
Tinkiu, a film, 2025
Garbo returned to her home city of Guangzhou, also known as Canton, along China’s southern coast.
In the familiar heat and humidity of summer, she reunited with her family, met the newborn,
and revisited memories of those who were no longer with them.
Diaspora, migration, ebb and flow, nostalgia, love. How could these emotions ever take shape? She wondered.
Garbo and her grandma