Some garments walk with you without asking questions.They’re there in the morning while the dough rises,at noon on the dog walk,in the evening for a spontaneous visit.And often, you don’t want to take them off again.

Some garments are more than just fabric on skin.They walk with us through moments when everything is in motion –between before and after, between self and other,between holding on and letting go.

When you sew, you're not just connecting fabric.You’re pulling energy through thread.

Measuring is one of those seemingly “technical” steps in sewing – you need numbers, tape, precision.But I believe how you measure makes a huge difference.Not just for the pattern – but for your relationship with yourself.

When you learn to sew, you meet darts early on.They’re supposed to shape curves, “make the dress fit nicely,” keep fabric under control. But I asked myself: Why invest so much effort squeezing the body into a fixed grid?

Your sewing table is more than a practical surface.It’s a space where ideas take shape. A place where thoughts become fabric – and fabric eventually becomes you.

When starting a new sewing project, everything begins with choosing your fabric. And this choice has more influence than you might think – not just on the drape and feel of the final piece, but also on how it makes you feel while sewing and wearing it.

Lately, more and more signs appear: “Clearance Sale”, “Closing Down – Thank You for Your Support”, “Final Days of Business”. What’s happening quietly in the background is a deep loss that goes far beyond shopping. Our local fabric stores are dying – and with them, we lose a vital piece of creative culture, hands-on craftsmanship, and local connection.

Self-expression is more than an outer sign. It is a path on which we meet ourselves – in our colors, shapes, words, and actions.To express yourself means not only to show what you think or feel. It is the beginning of discovering what is truly yours.

What if dressing up isn’t hiding, but uncovering—layer by layer—who we are not?A costume is more than fabric. It’s a mirror. An invitation. A tool for meeting yourself.

I used to believe I had to create everything on my own.That something wanted to be born through me – and I just had to hold it together, press it out, push through, endure.

Maybe you’ve felt it yourself: some clothes feel like a warm embrace – soft, grounding, almost like a second home. Others feel unfamiliar from the start. Too tight. Too loud. Too much.