Jet Labret

Jet Labrets; a dirty job

I'm always happy when I get to work with a new artifact type or raw material.  The Cape Krustenstern collection I'm working on right now includes a broken jet labret.  Jet or Lignite, is a type of coal - a sedimentary rock composed of altered vegetable matter.  Its black or brownish in colour and has a hardness similar to soapstone or very dense hardwood.  A labret is a kind of body ornament worn through the lip.  While researching this particular reproduction I came across an interesting article on Alaskan labrets by "tattoo anthropologist" Lars Krutak.

Block of jet (Lignite)

I wasn't quite sure how to go about finding jet initially, but since it is relatively easy to carve, comes as a low-grade by-catch in coal mining, and the internet is enormous, I found lots of small samples on gemstone and New Age sites where they are sold as worry stones and beads with all kinds of alleged magical powers.  In the end, I went with a nice big block of the stuff that I found on eBay that was somewhat expensive for a block of coal, but which was guaranteed to give me more than enough jet to work with.  This block was about the size of a paperback novel and was quite light for its size - only 280g.

Photo pattern of artifact on jet block

The artifact that I'm reproducing is incomplete, but its not too hard to work out the missing piece, since the curve of the labret would have fit around a person's teeth.  I used my own mouth to reconstruct the missing portion.  My plan is to make several complete labrets and then break them.  Hopefully the first couple that I break will match the artifact and I can keep the remaining labrets in one piece.

Roughed out labrets

Working with jet is unlike any other material that I've used before.  Its similar to ivory, but a little softer - more like a very hard wood.  I cut the initial block with the scroll saw and have done most of the shaping with abrading stones on the Dremel tool.  Carving or cutting the stone produces a horrendous amount of black dust which sticks to everything.  The dust smells like burning coal or oil.  Water doesn't seem to affect it.  Cutting the jet with a metal saw or rotary tool will create streams of smoke, but when you dunk the stone in water to cool it comes out bone dry.  I really don't understand that. Its like the dust repels water.  It was impossible to wash the dust off without using soap.

If I was an Alaskan Wrestler, my name would be Jet Labret

This style of labret wraps around the front of the lower jaw and the thin tab at the top would protrude through a slit cut in your lip.  If you feel your gums below your lower incisors with your fingertips, you'll notice that there is a bit of a bulge where the roots are and then an indentation below that where your gums meet your lip.  These labrets would rest below that bulge, with the tab poking through a hole in your lip.  I'm sure there would be a fair amount of discomfort when they are first fit and wedged into place, but once they are set, they are designed to fit the contours of your mouth and the jet is so light weight that after a time you'd barely notice that they were there.

ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch

My labrets aren't finished - the edges are too sharp, they are a little too thick for my gumline and I have no intention of cutting my lip to accomodate the ridge, so they hurt like hell when I tried to fit them in my mouth.  Plus they tasted like the Industrial Revolution and, from what I've read, women usually wore a single centre lip plug like this anyhow, so I'll never know how it really feels to wear one.  After torturing myself trying to fit these sharp little half-done labrets in my mouth for these pictures, Lori told me that her whole head was still numb from a trip to the dentist earlier in the day.  She never even volunteered.

Photo Credits:
1, 4-6: Lori White
2,3: Tim Rast