A Love Letter to Denim.

I fell in love with denim slowly.
Not in a moment - but across many wears.

With Japanese selvedge, everything begins with patience.
Cotton spun with care.
Indigo dipped again and again, so the colour lives on the surface -
ready to fade, not disappear.
Woven slowly on old shuttle looms that don’t rush.
A clean edge. A quiet proof of time.

This is fabric made for commitment.
Denim that expects a relationship.

The first wear feels like a first date.
You’re not quite sure.
It’s structured. A little stiff.
You don’t decide straight away -
but it stays with you.
And somehow, that’s enough.

Then denim begins to remember you.

How you move. How you sit. How you live.

Whiskers form where your body creases.
Fades bloom at pockets and hems.
Not decoration - but documentation.

Denim gets better with age because it’s designed to respond.
The indigo breaks in, not down.
The fibres soften, strengthen, settle.
What once resisted you now works with you.

It becomes a map of memories.
A record of days lived fully.

I wear denim because it’s trusting.
Because it’s honest.
Because it shows the marks of living - and never apologises for them.

Every fade tells a story.
Every crease is proof.
A reminder of all the places we’ve been together.

Happy Valentine's Day!
--Sara