Skip to content

Cart

Your cart is empty

Creation story

A golden thread, gifted in a flood of inspiration

Transparent image
A woman in a light blue dress kneeling in a garden, holding a pale pink rose close to her face.

MAIDEN

The golden thread of maiden mother crone was gifted to me, fully intact, in a flood of inspiration that came with the pregnancy of my son.

I was currently experiencing the fullness of the maiden season of my life. Young, contemplative and overflowing with heart I bore witness to my rapidly changing female form with awe, trepidation and reverence. What a swift change of presence, perspective and pace pregnancy catalyses!

Within a few weeks I already felt the layers of my wild and free maiden heart being washed away, replaced by the new sensations of swelling breasts and belly, sensitive skin and smell and taste. 

All too soon the clothing in my wardrobe no longer felt like me. I was changing, not yet sure of who I was becoming, but most certainly no longer comfortable in the skin of the woman I once was.

The desire to soften, expand and express the radiance of this fruitful season rose up in me like the rising dawn, balanced by the need to feel practical and comfortable and held. 

All these big feelings and sensations – moving and changing – ebbing and flowing. All the while my belly waning fuller like the moon.

Why could I not find any clothing that felt true to this fleeting season of chaos and becoming?

I found myself asking this question daily:
Where was a garment or a dress that I could put on and simply rest into? Something that felt good and true and pure.

A woman with long brown hair sits curled up on a weathered wooden bench outdoors, wearing a loose light beige kimono and a pale blue dress. Green foliage is visible in the background.

MOTHER

The birth of my son arrived and still this same question paced in my heart.

Where was the garment that I could trust to hold me, tenderly, in this fragile postpartum experience?

This waking dream of eating and sleeping and tending this precious new life, all the while feeling like my body had been stretched to the edges of her own unfolding. Tender and raw and open. 
Vulnerable. Shapeless. New.

My heart slowly awakening to the season and fullness of the mother.

Here, in theses early days I longed to wear white. White like the clouds, like freshly fallen snow – to celebrate and hold close these sensations of heaven meeting earth.

This time of milk and honey, softening  surrendering, jasmine, rose and staying close to home.

Spaciousness – not a want, but a sacred need.

These sweet days of feeling like I was spilling into everything – sky and sea and son alike.

Floating still between worlds...

A woman in a long pale blue dress stands barefoot on a tree stump in a misty green field, looking toward a tree in the fog.

CHANGE

And then all too soon... time became so precious.

The simple things I took for granted as a maiden were thoroughly swept away. Time seemed to fold in on itself and the daily rituals of self care that I had come to know and love felt like they were squeezed temporarily out of existence.

Here I longed for that one dress that I could throw on in a moment and instantly feel feminine and put together – even though on most days, I was just hanging on by that single golden thread – following one task after the next – balanced by that all consuming sweetness that babies thankfully bring and bring in great measure!

One dress in three colours.
Simple, practical, effortless.
Pick up, put on – ease.
Four women outdoors in a circle wearing flowing maxi-length dresses in soft neutral tones including blush pink, taupe, beige, and stone. The scene is shot from behind the central figure, with grass and trees in the background.

All these thoughts and feelings building inside me like a rising tide. The frustration, no, the longing to honour and uplift all women, everywhere, in every season and cycle of being.

The young maiden first coming into contact with the mystery of her blood and hips and breasts. Mothers: pregnant and breastfeeding, tender and vulnerable, strong, fierce and proud. Older women tending grandchildren or navigating the fluctuations of menopause – surrendering and adapting to another changing tide.

All these seasons, seen and unseen. Magic and awkward and everything in-between... deserved to be met and celebrated and honoured with clothing that could express these rich stories of becoming.

Women of all shapes and sizes and ages.
All women. Everywhere.
A row of hanging garments in soft neutral and earthy tones, including blush, cream, beige, rust, olive green, and charcoal grey, displayed on golden hangers against a bright white background.

After 7 sacred years of learning and refining the art of dress making, selling out of suitcases, by word of mouth and at gatherings

This golden thread of maiden mother crone – 
gifted to me in a gentle rain of inspiration that fell softly with my son’s birth – continues to guide me forward into ever new terrain.

Blessed by shared memories of starting this adventure so humbly with my beloved friend Meg, slowly and playfully learning the art of this craft. 

The soul sisters in my life have continued to call me forward with their encouragement and enthusiasm and the joy of seeing them wear my garments.

Two women sitting on a bench in front of a dark wooden piano, viewed from behind. The woman on the left wears a sleeveless taupe dress, and the woman on the right wears a long-sleeved dusty blue dress.

This offering from my heart to yours

Here we are.... Between the loving and supercharged embrace of an eclipse sandwich the same golden thread of divine inspiration dancing in my heart… I have been sitting with my dear friend Caroline locked into creating my first ever website and online store for maiden mother crone!

With the desire to make available, to the wider community of our beautiful country South Africa, the garments that I love so much and that have carried me through many layered cycles and seasons of being.

Being maiden.
Being annihilated.
Becoming woman.
Being Mother.
Mentor, creator, lover.
Gardener of the heart.
And all the sacred moments 
in-between.        

May these garments bless and uplift you and celebrate the beauty of your becoming and your sacred womanhood.