My Story

From a young age, I’ve been drawn to materials that felt alive. I remember the copper bangles I chose as a little girl at the Indonesian market, enchanted by the mystical items around them. At home, I’d paint my nails red and watch the red and copper shimmer together. Then, there was the long purple leather jacket I bought with money from my first summer job. It was so special and beautiful, worth every penny, even though others thought it too expensive. And the worn cowboy boots a stranger gave me, believing I would appreciate them—those boots sparked a search I’ve continued ever since. They remain my favorite things to wear. Flea markets and thrift shops became my favorite places.

At the time, I didn’t realize I wasn’t just collecting things. I was searching for something deeper, something that resonated on another level. This search led me to ethnic, handmade textiles. I began seeking fabrics with history and stories woven into each thread.

My journey took me to various countries, markets, and auctions. Along the way, I connected with other collectors who now share their treasures with me.

The fabrics I work with are handmade, mostly sourced from Africa and Asia. Many of these vintage or antique pieces were created using traditional techniques that are nearly forgotten. They represent a time when craftsmanship was valued for its authenticity, not mass production. Each fabric reminds us of the deep connections we can find in what’s real and authentic—before production became solely about profit.

Some fabrics show signs of age, while others are perfect. Even the aged textiles are too beautiful to sit in storage or just be displayed—they deserve to be seen and worn. In a world that often feels gray and disconnected, these fabrics bring authenticity and beauty.

After becoming a mother, I found more time for myself when my children started school. I felt the urge to create again. I decided to transform these textiles into wearable pieces, so they could inspire and touch people.

In my studio, each fabric feels like a puzzle. I carefully choose the pieces, letting each one find its place while preserving the original material. I often choose designs like the Haori kimono, where the fabric is displayed in its full glory, so its beauty and story can be fully experienced. My process is intuitive, and each fabric is unique, making every garment I create one of a kind.

Through this process, I’ve realized something familiar: just as I piece these fabrics together, I’m piecing together parts of myself. Personal growth isn’t about becoming someone new; it’s about returning to who you truly are. Each garment reflects this journey—not just mine, but also that of the fabric, the hands that made it, and the person who will wear it. Some of us have forgotten this soul connection, others feel it without knowing why, and some already know that we are all connected.

I hope my work adds to this awareness in this time, as someone beautifully described—the Evolution of the Heart