When you grow up in the Hebrides among your tough Harris Tweed-clad menfolk and the smell of wet tweed and feel of rough wool is as familiar to you as your own skin you have permission to mess with it.
The ancient coming together of our island sheep wool in woven and knitted form is an eternal delight for the senses.
In tiny stone homes folk carded the wool and spun it making threads that bound communities of hand knitters and weavers in industry and clothed, as it turned out, the world.
Slamming Harris Tweed fabric up against Harris wool or any other pure wool feels natural.
To be wild with it; to let the ragged edges show, bare, to cut it imperfectly, to cherish tiny pieces of fibres and let them sing a different tune feels like an evolution of our Hebridean spirit.
As an indigenous Hebridean woman taught a traditional craft of our people, playing with our natural fibres makes my heart sing.
Short days, wild winds, stormy seas. The glory of winter darkness hibernation, wrapping ourselves in cosy woollens, swaddling our spirits in the gestation time, quietening our minds, listening with stillness to the sounds of nature. Here we are in the deep mid-Winter with arrows pointing back to Autumn and forwards to Spring in the eternal …
A sunny day in June and the INNER WILD Elven Strappy Top makes summer frolics brighter. A little elven top for all kinds of adventures in secret places with thin i-cord straps, hand knitted in Noro’s pretty jewel, rainbow effect yarn. Hand knitted in beautiful Noro Silk Garden yarn that’s 45% silk, 45% kid mohair …
Tha an fhuil làidir. The blood is strong. Harris Tweed and Shetland wool. Hebridean wool from our native sheep. Harris wool tagged by weavers captured for knitting.
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As familiar as skin: Harris Tweed
When you grow up in the Hebrides among your tough Harris Tweed-clad menfolk and the smell of wet tweed and feel of rough wool is as familiar to you as your own skin you have permission to mess with it.
The ancient coming together of our island sheep wool in woven and knitted form is an eternal delight for the senses.
In tiny stone homes folk carded the wool and spun it making threads that bound communities of hand knitters and weavers in industry and clothed, as it turned out, the world.
Slamming Harris Tweed fabric up against Harris wool or any other pure wool feels natural.
To be wild with it; to let the ragged edges show, bare, to cut it imperfectly, to cherish tiny pieces of fibres and let them sing a different tune feels like an evolution of our Hebridean spirit.
As an indigenous Hebridean woman taught a traditional craft of our people, playing with our natural fibres makes my heart sing.
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Winter: potent hibernation
Short days, wild winds, stormy seas. The glory of winter darkness hibernation, wrapping ourselves in cosy woollens, swaddling our spirits in the gestation time, quietening our minds, listening with stillness to the sounds of nature. Here we are in the deep mid-Winter with arrows pointing back to Autumn and forwards to Spring in the eternal …
Summer: The Elven Strappy Top
A sunny day in June and the INNER WILD Elven Strappy Top makes summer frolics brighter. A little elven top for all kinds of adventures in secret places with thin i-cord straps, hand knitted in Noro’s pretty jewel, rainbow effect yarn. Hand knitted in beautiful Noro Silk Garden yarn that’s 45% silk, 45% kid mohair …
Inspiration: being Hebridean
Tha an fhuil làidir. The blood is strong. Harris Tweed and Shetland wool. Hebridean wool from our native sheep. Harris wool tagged by weavers captured for knitting.