Chapter one
Every garment begins as a whisper in the dark. Before form, before color — there is only the stubborn belief that wool can hold a secret.
Chapter two
We asked the fabric what it wanted to become. It said: everything, and nothing you'd expect. So we listened.
Chapter three
Somewhere between a loom and a prayer, the thread decides its own path. We just follow along and pretend we planned the whole thing.
Chapter four
Venus was born from sea foam. These pieces were born from sheep wool and too many espressos. The result, we think, is roughly equivalent.