016: I'M MAKING THINGS FOR YOU (AND ME)

Hello lovely people.

I’m crawling out of my creative web, where I’ve been bouncing between sewing machine and iron, to say hi, hello, how do you do?

I love it here (Substack). I truly do. But I keep thinking I don’t have much to say. No announcement. No news. There’s a voice inside my head that tells me it’s impolite to report on the slow, repetitive, chosen work I’ve buried myself in. I would rather not bore you. But after a convo with some cherished friends who proposed otherwise, I was reminded that what I’m doing doesn’t exactly qualify as boring and that maybe some of you would like to see what that looks like.

So that’s what we’re doing.

Welcome to my studio!

I want to show you what I’m working on and talk a bit about how I’m turning a library of infatuations, inspirations, and ideas into the reboot I didn’t know I needed.

I started making clothes in 2000 for myself and for my friends. I fell hard for the craft and spent the next seven years building a brand with a Chloe-era Philo future in mind which, when looking back, feels like a completely different lifetime entirely. It was. Now, a quarter of a century later (wow), I’ve dusted off my sewing skills and am once again making things for myself and my friends, only today’s goals look very different.

I’m going to give a little sap for a second, but I haven’t felt this fulfilled and content in a very long time. The brutal and disorienting mid-life chapter that knocked me down flat was eye-opening, transformative, and completely necessary. I rediscovered myself and let go of a lot of things that no longer served me. It’s really beautiful out here, on the other side.

I forgot how much I love creating with my hands. Turns out it’s much like riding a bike, and I’m still quite good at it.

My studio days are some of my favorite. Those mornings are for coffee and research. Visual references from a stack of old magazines and books, and sometimes I’ll put on a film I haven’t seen in a while, not to sit down and watch, but to exist in the background that I can dip into when something grabs my attention.

I carry around a work bag filled with notepads, folders, and sketchbooks, each one holding different versions of ideas, outlines, random thoughts, lists, and simple sketches.

After a productive morning of brain work, I reset with a quick shower and then head into my studio. It’s my favorite place to be, aside from my bed. It’s where the things in my notebooks are (politely) forced into existence.

I turn on a playlist, grab my scissors, rulers, muslin, and paper, and begin working through construction. Patterns, samples, adjustments, more samples. The process is slow. It’s repetitive. It’s also the best part. You make something. You realize it’s wrong. You fix it. You make it again. You get a little closer. You do it all over again, patiently, until it’s just right.

There’s also the less romantic side: sourcing materials, managing spreadsheets, figuring out branding (which I actually love), calculating costs, markup, timelines, and the other scaffolding needed to run a clothing operation, even when it’s small scale.

I’m trying, as much as possible, to work with materials that already exist. Secondhand textiles, leftover yardage, trims, and thrifted pieces made of natural fibers I can rework or repurpose. I always buy secondhand silk when I’m thrifting. There will be some materials, inevitably, that I’ll need to source new, but I like the focus and challenge of making something fresh out of something old. I think it’s more interesting.

I purchased a stunning, mid-1800s, silk velvet piece from France (above). It feels almost too special to cut into, but I bought it with the intention of making a very small run (two or three, tops) of evening bags. I also found a couple of bolts of 100% cotton at a secondhand craft store, which were exactly what I needed. I’m not sure if it’s luck or just paying attention, but recently the things I’ve been looking for have strangely fallen into my lap.

Last week, during my daily scroll through Marketplace, I found a dress form that I’ve had open in a browser tab for a couple of months. It was listed “like new” and happened to be the perfect sample size I needed. The person selling it was asking $250, which is almost a grand off retail. I messaged her immediately asking if she’d consider $200 since I was two hours away but could make the drive. She accepted promptly, so I cancelled my day, jumped in my car, and was en route to adopt my new child.

I’m very inspired by the vintage items I’ve owned for decades, impactful moments, places, and people in my life, specifically the pieces worn by my mother and ones I’ve seen in family photos. I won’t be creating traditional collections or seasons. Instead, I’ll be releasing one, maybe two things at a time. Small quantities. Often made-to-order. Each release will be capped. Sometimes one of two, sometimes one of ten. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

I’m not interested in growing a large brand. I’ve explored that road before, and things tend to shift rapidly in a way that can easily spin out of your control. I want to remain small, slow, manageable, and special.

I’ve been working on a handful of samples for upcoming releases: a dress that I am completely obsessed with, a piece inspired by a 1930s textile I’ve worn as a belt for years, a few separates (mostly tops), including one that I used to make in the early ‘00s. I’m recreating a little bag that was hand-stitched in Paris in the nineteen forties, and I just started a second dress inspired by one that my mom wore in the nineties that I stupidly put into a donation bag and have never stopped thinking about.

The belt and dress above are ready to be photographed and released for a small pre-order. There’s just one holdup. They’re waiting on garment labels, which I cannot order until I decide on…a name.

Yes, still. I know.

I’ve narrowed my list of prospects down from nearly a dozen to two(ish), so hey, that’s progress. The names are tied to my grandparents, which makes the decision feel heavier than it should and more important than it probably is. I’m working through branding mockups for each, hoping one will assert itself and help me make a final decision.

It needs to feel right. Not strategic, not cool, not clever, just right.

Until then, I’ll be right here, making things, making them again, and wrapping up a new collection of vintage for THEWANT that has been waiting patiently for my attention. There are still some amazing pieces available from the last drop. And if you click on #57 on the homepage moodboard, there’s a little discount embedded inside.

I’d like to share more of the process and development side of building a small label, with all its chaos and minor victories, if it’s something that sparks interest. If not, that’s cool. I’ll still be here with essays, recommendations, high-low outfits, and whatever I had for dinner.

Talk soon. xxJ