I didn’t grow up wanting to be a fashion designer — I just knew I didn’t want to dress like everyone else. That instinct — to do things differently, to express myself through clothing — still guides how I work today. I look for the detail, the feeling, the story that makes a piece truly yours. As a teen, I spent hours vintage shopping. Back then, it wasn’t about trends — it was about finding something that spoke to me. That’s when I started paying attention to construction — how a shape, a seam, or a print could shift everything. I still keep many of those old pieces because they remind me why I do what I do. I took a detour through law school, trying to follow a “safer” path. But during lectures, I’d find myself (badly) sketching dresses instead of taking notes. Eventually, I followed my gut and studied Fashion Design and Pattern Making at ESMOD, specialising in womenswear and leather. Since then, my path has taken many forms — across creative and technical roles. I started in a local tailoring atelier, developing patterns, attending fittings, and supporting independent designers up close. Later, I worked with global startups fully online, helping them from concept to production. I’ve also taught pattern making at ESMOD and DIDI, training the next generation in the skills that turn sketches into real garments. And for a while, I ran my own brand — a small chapter I chose to pause, but not give up. I believe there’s no point in making more clothes unless we make better ones — pieces that last longer, are fairly priced (and fairly made), and don’t cost us the earth. And I know that small creative brands have the power to move the industry in that direction. Today, I support fashion founders who want to build thoughtful collections — not fast fashion, and not copy-paste designs. I don’t take every project, and I work best when there’s trust and a shared vision. I help turn ideas into focused, intentional collections — with guidance that’s both creative and practical. On a more personal note, I live in a house run by three cats and where music is always playing. It’s the rhythm that carries me through the day. I hoard fabrics I’m too emotionally attached to cut, and collect trims like tiny heirlooms. When I need to disappear for a while, I either craft or dance. Most of all, I don’t like rushing — not in the morning, not in design, not in life. Maybe that’s why I’ve always been drawn to clothes with history — made to last, to be felt, and to be kept.