At the center of my work is the idea that products aren’t really the point. I think of them more as evidence—of a life, of habits, of identity. I’m drawn to the space where something holds memory as much as it does function. Where what you’re looking at isn’t just a thing, but a record of how someone moves through the world. A T-shirt isn’t just a T-shirt—it’s what you reached for on a day that mattered. A rug isn’t just a rug—it’s where mornings start, where kids play, where life accumulates over time.

My background in fashion has always been about building narrative around those ideas—treating clothing as something that’s shaped by the person wearing it, not the other way around. Campaigns, to me, aren’t about presenting a finished image, but about capturing something ongoing: repetition, ritual, the way pieces become part of someone’s everyday.

Over the last five years, that perspective has deepened and shifted. Since becoming a mother, my creative life has moved closer to home, both literally and conceptually. I’ve found myself drawn to children’s and family brands, where storytelling is rooted in home, comfort and the everyday rituals of raising children.

I’m even more interested now in making work that feels honest, that reflects how people actually live, and that respects the emotional weight of everyday objects. The goal isn’t to elevate something beyond recognition, but to see it more clearly—to show why it matters in the first place.