There are certain things that become part of who we are not because they're reserved for special occasions, but because we return to them, day after day, year after year. A favorite court. A well-worn racquet. A gold chain that never leaves your neck. They gather history quietly, becoming more meaningful with time. That's always been at the heart of how we think about jewelry. We make pieces to be lived in, carried through every season of life, and passed forward with stories attached. Tennis shares that same rhythm. It's a sport built on discipline, community, and the understanding that the things worth keeping are the ones we continue to show up for. For our latest Meet the Artist, we sat down with fellow tennis player, Jordaan Ashley to talk about the courts that shaped her, the people who did the same, and why the things that last are rarely the things kept on a shelf.
Before we get into it, a few quick ones:
Where did you grow up? I was born in Whittier and grew up in the Inland Empire. Southern California is home!
First sport you ever played? Swimming
Coffee or matcha? Don't make me choose! I'm a coffee and matcha girl. It just depends on the mood.
Morning practice or evening practice? Morning practice. I've definitely become an early bird over the years and I love starting my day with movement.
Favorite court in LA right now? I'd have to say Silvertop. My friends Mads and Simon teach there and it's such a special court in the heart of Los Angeles.
Best tennis city you've ever visited? Los Angeles. It's home, and the tennis community here is one of the most welcoming and supportive I've ever experienced. Many of my closest friends today are people I grew up playing with as a kid. This city shaped me both as a player and as a person.
Racquet you can't live without? Yonex's VCORE. It's been my racquet of choice for years. If you're a spin player like me, you're in for a treat.
One song on your court playlist that never gets skipped? It has to be "Star" by the Allah-Las. Most of my time on court these days feels calm and therapeutic, and this song always sets the mood. The second it comes on, I'm exactly where I want to be.
Q: You've said you grew up playing on the park courts of LA—weeds in the cracks, nothing polished about it. What did those courts teach you that you've carried into everything else?
The biggest lesson those courts taught me is that you can always turn a lemon into lemonade.
The courts weren't the greatest. There were cracks and I didn't grow up with an exclusive club membership. But what I did have was determination and people around me that supported my growth. Those things mattered far more than where I was playing.
That experience taught me that you don't need perfect conditions to pursue excellence. You can create something meaningful with what you have. I've carried that mindset with me far beyond tennis and it's still something I come back to today.
Q: You compete, you run marathons, you travel the world looking for great tennis. When you strip all of that away, what is the thing about the sport itself that still gets you every morning?
At this point in my life, it's simply my love for the game.
I've spent most of my life around tennis, and while I'm no longer competing the way I once did, the sport continues to give me so much. These days, what excites me most is finding new ways to stay connected to it. Whether that's through storytelling, working in the sport, or helping the next generation see what's possible.
At its core, tennis has given me community, purpose and opportunities I never could have imagined. I think what still gets me every morning is the desire to give a little of that back.
Q: You work across a lot of different communities around tennis. What does it look like when a sport actually belongs to a neighborhood and a community?
I've managed the USTA Foundation's social channels for over four years, and while I always understood how powerful tennis could be because of my own journey, that role has shown me what happens when a sport truly becomes part of a community.
When tennis belongs to a neighborhood, it's no longer just about the game. It's about access, mentorship, confidence, and the belief that there are possibilities beyond what a young person may see in front of them. I've had the privilege of seeing communities where opportunities once felt limited, and then watching young people pick up a racquet, find a sense of belonging, and begin to imagine a different future for themselves.
That's what makes the sport so special to me. Tennis has the power to open doors, and it's a beautiful thing to watch those doors open for the next generation.
Q: Kinn is built around the idea of jewelry you live in—solid gold pieces worn through real life, not saved for occasions. Are there things you wear that have earned meaning the same way?
My nana loved gold jewelry, and I'd like to think I got my love for it from her. Although she's no longer here, I wear a gold bracelet she gave me with engravings of angels and Christ, a gold band that was hers, and a gold necklace with the letter "J" that belonged to my grandpa, John.
I never take them off. To me, they're so much more than jewelry. They're reminders of where I come from and the people who shaped me. Through those pieces, I feel like I carry a little bit of my nana and papa with me every day.
Q: Tennis is a sport you can play for your entire life. Kinn makes pieces meant to last just as long. There's something similar in how both ask you to show up every day and let time do its work. How do you think about longevity—in your body, your game, the things you choose to keep?
Tennis taught me that longevity isn't about staying the same. It's about finding new ways to return to something over and over again.
I've played the sport for most of my life, but my relationship with it looks very different today than it did when I was competing in college. The game evolved, and so did I. I think the same is true for the things we choose to keep. The pieces I treasure most aren't necessarily the most valuable. They're the ones that have been with me through different chapters and carry a story.
As I've gotten older, I've become much more drawn to quality over quantity. Things that are thoughtfully made, built to last, and become more meaningful with time. There's something really beautiful about allowing years, experiences, and memories to add to something rather than replace it.
Q: You mentioned hoping to still be playing on these courts 20, 30, 40 years from now. What does that version of your life look like?
I hope it looks a lot like it does today. Time spent outside, moving my body and sharing the court with people I love the most.
Tennis has been one of the few constants in my life. It's taken different shapes over the years, but it's always been there. Thirty or forty years from now, I hope I'm still showing up to the same courts, hitting with my besties and finding joy in the game. That’s the beauty of tennis, it’s the sport of a lifetime!
