DENIM

i love you

A Love Letter to Denim

Before I knew you,

Before I knew your name,

Your strength, your history—You were already a part of me.

My mother introduced us. She called you dungarees—a name that carried your toughness. She trusted you to protect me as I stumbled through my earliest days. You were sturdy enough to endure my falls, yet soft enough to comfort me when I needed it.

Even then, you were my armor.

That was the beginning of us.

Here are I am with my childhood best friend. I hand treated my overalls and hand painted the Simpsons characters on her jeans.

Cut, Stitch, Rebuild: Discovering My Craft

As I grew, you appeared in different forms—jeans that made me feel confident and unique, jackets that wrapped me in warmth and style.

I thought I was simply wearing you, but you were already shaping me.

When I reached my teens, our relationship deepened.

I couldn’t resist getting closer—learning you,

removing your stitches,

and weaving you back together.

Before I understood the word “design,” I was deconstructing and reengineering old jeans.

I played with texture, experimented with washes, and painted across your surface. I remixed your hues and stitched you into something new.

You were my first canvas.

My first collaborator.

Before I had the words to call myself a maker, I was already speaking through you.

Tracing the Indigo Roots: Your Story Became Mine

My Great Grandmother, her parents, siblings and their children

I loved you for what you allowed me to create, but I needed to understand why I was so drawn to you.

When I traced your story back, I found myself—my genealogy—amidst the indigo fields.

I saw the hands of my ancestors cultivating that blue gold.

And in that moment, my love for you changed. It deepened.

You were never just fabric.
You carried history.
You carried resilience.
You carried liberation.

Every time I cut, stitched, or washed you into something new, I was not just designing—I was in conversation with the past.

With those hands. With that history.

You were not just my canvas.

You were my connection to something sacred.

denim, You taught me that the best things take time.

fading is not failure

Fades, Frays, and Strength: What You Taught Me

It was through you that I found my strength.

You taught me that the best things take time.

You showed me that fading is not failure, that fraying does not mean falling apart.

You can be worn and still be whole.

You can be ripped and still reimagined.

Working with you taught me patience.

You made me better—not just as a designer, but as a person.

You taught me that creation is an act of freedom.

And that love, the real kind, truly endures.

Now That I Know You

Now, I know you.

I know your weight in my hands, the sound of a needle piercing your fibers, the richness of your indigo hues, and the endless variations of your texture.

I know the satisfaction of giving you a second life—repurposing discarded denim, creating artisanal washes, reengineering your weave and reconstructing you into silhouettes never worn before.

I know your possibilities—the innovation woven into every thread.

I know that working with you is my calling because I’ve been doing it since I was young.

Even when I tried to walk away, you always called me back.

And So, I Promise You This

I will honor you.
I will work slowly, intentionally—mending what others throw away.
I will see your imperfections as beauty and your scars as strength.
I will carry your story forward—with every seam, every wash, every silhouette.

Because I love you.
Because I always have—even before I knew you.