kenya living
Living in Kenya for three years changed me in ways I’m still unpacking. It opened my eyes, grounded my values, and completely reshaped the way I think about what we “need.” I met people with next to nothing- no savings, no cupboards full of food, no safety nets. But what they did have, they shared. Food was passed around without hesitation and doors opened wide to strangers. That kind of generosity hits different when you know it’s coming from someone who truly has little to spare. It made me question everything: why do we always want more, when so often, we already have enough?
The fashion industry is one of the worst culprits for overconsumption. We're told to buy for every mood, every trend, every micro-season. We fill our wardrobes and still feel like we have "nothing to wear." But in Kenya, I saw the flip side of our fast fashion habits- the aftermath.
Walking through markets in Nanyuki, you find entire alleyways overflowing with secondhand clothes, many from Western countries. Bales upon bales of donated and discarded garments, dumped with good intentions but overwhelming local sellers and often ending up in waste piles when they can't be sold. I saw trousers with tags still on, clothes barely worn, and mountains of fabric that no one wanted. It broke my heart to think of how much we throw away, not because it's unwearable, but because we’re told we need the next new thing.
That experience shaped how I created beany bottoms. I didn’t want to just make “another pair of trousers.” I wanted to design something versatile, durable, and beautiful enough to live in- whether that’s working from your kitchen table, heading to dinner, hopping on a flight, or hosting a picnic in the park. I wanted trousers that adapt to you, not the other way around. Ones you can wear on repeat, style a hundred ways, and not get sick of. Because the truth is, we don’t need more clothes- we need better ones.
So when I think back to those market stalls in Kenya, overflowing with the excess of a world chasing trends, I remember why I started this. To slow it down. To make fashion feel intentional again. And to honour the kind of generosity I learned in Kenya- the kind that gives more with less.
