About us
My grandmother told me how the weavers used to come to the house of her childhood, after the flax harvest, to turn, with their miraculous hands, those golden threads into pieces of clothing for the family. With her childlike eyes, she saw what almost a hundred years later she would tell me during the damp winter afternoons, with her elderly hands busy at work, while my mother added, in the background, the sound of the sewing machine.
The same machine, like an unwavering witness, continues to watch me from its place of honor in the main room of the house; and, in the meantime, I smile as my daughters steal scraps and pins for their dolls’ dresses.
The name I give my creations pays tribute to all those women, who with their skilled hands created both the garments that kept the family warm and those to show off on the day of the celebration. The women who left us the pleasure of admiring a job well done. The women who taught us that quality lies in the details.
To all of them, thank you.
The same machine, like an unwavering witness, continues to watch me from its place of honor in the main room of the house; and, in the meantime, I smile as my daughters steal scraps and pins for their dolls’ dresses.
The name I give my creations pays tribute to all those women, who with their skilled hands created both the garments that kept the family warm and those to show off on the day of the celebration. The women who left us the pleasure of admiring a job well done. The women who taught us that quality lies in the details.
To all of them, thank you.
Chelo López Sarceda.
Lugo (Spain)