From my first crooked stitches to now, sewing has always been a thread that ties me to my roots. I learned to sew from my mom and grandma, watching their hands work magic with fabric and thread. Some of my most fond early memories were watching my mom sew puppets to put on a puppet show for local kids and my grandma making doll clothes for my dolls and matching outfits for me and my sister, including me in the process with my limited cross-stitch skills. It was always special to see them caring for the people in their lives through sewing. Whether it was hemming a dress for a friend, making a blanket for a new baby, or fixing a shirt that had seen better days, their hands were often busy creating something meaningful.

I’ll never forget a moment from when I was around 10 years old—my grandma asked me to bring her some thread for a project she was working on, and not knowing how much she needed, I cut her a length that ran for most of the house! She looked at me, chuckled, and said, “I remember when your mother did the exact same thing.” Knowing that my mom once stood in my shoes, learning just like I did, makes this journey even more special. My early attempts were far from perfect, but there was a spark in me that kept coming back. Every stitch is a piece of them, a memory, a lesson passed down. And though my seams have gotten straighter, it’s the love and tradition woven into each piece that I cherish most.

Working on my latest collection with my mom feels like a full-circle moment. From the days when my stitches were all over the place to now, creating something special side by side with the woman who first put a needle in my hand—it’s a feeling I can’t quite put into words. There’s a joy in the rhythm of sewing and working together, stitching memories. This project isn’t just another creation; it’s a celebration of the bond we share and the legacy of love passed down from my grandma, stitch by stitch.