The colors of the land

Hello from Marseille,

If you’re receiving this newsletter, chances are we’ve met before — maybe at a trade show, at Shop Collective in Brooklyn, or through a purchase from my website. So you probably already know: heirloom cotton is at the heart of my work. It has been for nearly a decade.

But for those who are new here — welcome. I’d love to share a glimpse into this part of my world.

Heirloom cotton still grows in just a few places on Earth — mostly remote villages in Central America, where cotton was first cultivated thousands of years ago. The varieties I work with are ancient and precious. They grow naturally in shades of cream, pink, green, and brown — not dyed, not bleached, not chemically altered. The colors you see in our textiles are exactly how they appear on the plant.

Since 2016, I’ve worked closely with Indigenous artisans in Mexico, Guatemala, and India to create small collections of home textiles — pillows, throws, blankets. These collaborations are slow and deeply intentional. The cotton is harvested by hand, spun using wooden tools passed down through generations, and woven on traditional looms. Every step honors ancestral knowledge and the rhythm of the seasons.

It’s a long, labor-intensive, and costly process. Our collections are small, mostly made to order, and guided by one principle: don’t make more than we need. We primarily work with retailers and interior designers who share our values, but we also offer a few ready-to-ship pieces online for those who want to bring a bit of this magic into their homes.

Since moving to the South of France, I’ve found more space to reflect — not just on what I do, but how and why I do it. I’ve been thinking about how to slow down even more, how to create with deeper intention, and how to truly honor the artisans I collaborate with — not just by sharing their work as a product, but by telling their stories.

In New York, especially toward the end, I was in survival mode. The focus naturally shifted to selling — because it had to. But deep down, I always knew there was more to the story. And now, I finally have the space to tell it.

Working with heirloom cotton isn’t just about fabric — it’s about preserving a living heritage, supporting traditional economies, and listening to what the land can give, not what we can take.

Living here by the sea, surrounded by raw landscapes and the rhythm of the Mediterranean, I’m reminded every day how much nature informs my work. The hues of heirloom cotton — soft cream, earthy brown, pale green — echo the sunbaked rocks, the shifting blues of the ocean, the dusty pinks and warm ochres of the hills. These landscapes speak the same quiet language as the fibers I work with — subtle, grounded, and shaped by time.

Thank you for being here and following along. In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing more about the people and places behind these fibers, the history they carry, and why this work continues to inspire and humble me every day.

If you’d like to learn more, you can visit the Behind the Hill website. And if you’re interested in the upcoming capsule collection — for yourself or your shop — simply reply to this message and I’ll make sure you receive all the details as soon as they’re ready.

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