a work in progress

Processed with VSCO with a5 preset

Energy & Dreamers

One of the challenging parts of growing this label has been meeting all sorts of people. I’ve been told that as an industry fashion is super challenging. 

Takes a lot of time. One woman told me a decade, then she paired it back to 3 years once I told her I’d built and sold a business. 

I’m learning that you have to have to really love it to hang around in this game. 

But I’m also learning. To bide my energy. 

Many years ago, I was a dreamer. 

I stood in the face of people telling me not to freelance. 

They told me I wouldn’t be able to make a business of it. 

They told me. 

I didn’t have enough experience. 
Today, I’ve been told I have no idea. 

I’ve been told to go work for someone else. 

I’ve been told I’m an idiot for making calls and asking questions till I build a name.

I’ve been told I WILL FAIL. 
And to all this I say. 
But more likely. 
Maybe not. 
It will take time. There will be lessons. It will hurt at times. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. 
I have a feeling I might just make it out at the other end if I hang in long enough. 
And so. 
You? My friend. My reader. 

If the  is shooting you down for whatever it is you want, wherever it is you want to go. Just hang in there. Hold onto your own space. 

Your own energy. And if you need a safe space. You’ll find it here. 
A space that believes in you. 

Believes in you coming out at the other end of it all.  
Cheering you on, 



Questioning Love.

How can this be love? When you can’t bear my shine?


Processed with VSCO with a5 preset

Dots & Lines

Last night, I caught up for dinner with a photographer friend of mine. 
She said something which blew me away. 
She said. 

How we photograph isn’t how we look. 
She had taken a series of self portraits and was astonished to discover that each picture was radically different even if shot within the same few moments. 
And I realised. 
A photograph can’t capture energy. 

It’s a digital capture. 

Of dots and lines. 

Of colours that are defined by numbers. 
When we laugh and that warm feeling sinks into our stomachs, how does that translate? 

When I look away shyly and you know that a moment has passed from your heart strings to mine, how does that translate? 

When we are deep in conversation and your eyes are animated and your face blurs away, how does that translate? 
Our real memories of moments are made of this. 

This connection / energy / vibe. 
So why do we compromise our definition of beauty into dots and lines? 


Processed with VSCO with a5 preset

The Pattern Maker

I’ve had the joy and delight of finding a gorgeous pattern maker in Melbourne who is helping me learn more about cuts and darts and blocks and fabric. It’s been a real journey. 
During our second meeting, I showed her the design concepts I had in mind for the label range. I showed her a trench coat. But it wasn’t your typical trench coat. I wanted something edgy, a bit undone. It was jacquard fabric which was plain in the sense that it was predominantly black with slithers of silver. And then I explained that I wanted to use a floral print by Carmelo on the lapel. 

I was nervous and worried that she wouldn’t like the idea. 

I could gauge from her face that she didn’t “get”. 

I was asking her with hope, if she “got it”. 

She truthfully said to me. 
Karishma, you need to be the one to get it. 

The one to see it. 

I don’t need to see it. 

This is your vision. 

I can’t always see what you see. 

And that is ok. 

You have to see it. 
And with that. 

She changed the whole game. 
It is an honour to have the moment to have her light shine upon me. 


Processed with VSCO with a5 preset

Seeking approval? 

When do we stop? 
I had a friend of mine tell me how she firmly believes in medical sciences and her son believes in homeotherapy type stuff. Her son has spent a lifetime hoping he can convince his mum to think the other way. 

She was wondering why. 

I instantly said, “Because your approval makes him feel right.” 

And being “right” is all that matters. 
And I realised. 

I’m not so different. 
I live a wildly different life to my own parents. 

But in all my little ways, I’m subconsciously seeking their approval. 
Look at me – my house is tidy enough isn’t it? 

Look at me – my marriage is peaceful enough isn’t it? 

Look at me – I married the right guy and made the right choice after all didn’t I? 

Look at me – my son is growing up to be well behaved just like we were? 

Look at me. 

Look at me. 

Look at me. 
And you realise. 

You’re seeking an approval you may never find. 

Because perhaps the words were lost. 

Perhaps they were never literally said. 
But it is a approval you will never find. 

In it’s entirety. 
Because the universe is teaching you. 
That it is enough. 

To approve yourself. 

Your conscience is the ultimate approval. 



Me Vs. The World

Why are we all set out to change each other? To make everyone like us? 

To convince them of our right-ness? 

Why can’t following our own truth simply be enough?




My dearest. I love you tenderly. 

It pains me to see you mistreated. 

It pains me to see hurt under your hooded eyes. 

To see exhaustion swept upon your face. 
It pains me to see that you aren’t understood. 


Can’t see you. 

Can’t hear you. 

Over the cackles of laughter. 
Your soul. 

Is my friend. 
Perhaps this is why. 

Your solitude is my companion. 
Each of us. 






You could be staying at RAAS and still be unhappy. Still wishing, seeking for perfection. 

You could have marble floors and crisp white towels. 

And still be unhappy. 

You could have a loving man at your side and a serve of chilli paneer, paneer tikka and spring rolls at your table and still unhappy. 

You could be loved by all you love. 

And still be unhappy. 

You could have a son happily tucked into bed, with eyes shut and lashes framing them like a crescent moon. 

And still be unhappy. 
And I realise. 

All over again. 
That it is simply because. 
You are ungrateful. 




If you don’t let them fall, How will you gather your tears? 
If you don’t howl in pain, 

How will you find relief? 
If you don’t find comfort at your wife’s collar, 

How will you flirt at her waist? 
Diamonds are never made love to my friend. 

Hard. Cool. Unfeeling. 

They lie upon a nape, all day, perhaps even, all night, but are never made love to. 






Fucked up. 



Than diamonds. 



Let your body be alive. 



“Love What You Do”

For years, I thought I was doing what I loved. I ran a graphic design agency and I was able to make choices because I was the boss. 

I’d read interviews of successful artists who said they were “so lucky to be able to do what they love and earn a living from it.”

I never understood this. 

I didn’t feel lucky. I didn’t feel blessed. 

I mean I did, but not in that way. 

And a lot of the time, I didn’t wake up in the morning excited about the day ahead. 

There was a to-do-list and that was that. 
Of course, I eventually sold the business. 

I didn’t want it. 

Having a son felt like more than enough. 

Why take on something you didn’t really want? 

Suddenly, that part of the picture was clear. 
But I was so lost. 


I could do consulting, make decent money and be happy. 

I’d tell myself I loved it. 

But I just because I was good at it, 

Didn’t mean I was running to it. 
After about 1.5 years of knowing the things I was really good at, 

I still didn’t know what I really loved. 
I had a counselling session. 

And I walked out of it alive. 

Because I guess Kayleene could see which parts of the conversation made my eyes light up. 
It was the embroidery. The art. The florals. The silk. The rich, rich, silk. 
And now. 

Just about every meeting I have excites me. 

My whole body is alive. 

And I know what it means, to really love what you do. 

To have it excite you so much, there are tears in your eyes. 

Or goosebumps on your arms. 
And that. 

Is a blessing. 


Page 1 of 46

Powered by Life, Love and Everything In between.



Oh hi, please subscribe if you'd like posts to come auto-magically to your inbox.

I promise, no spam. xx K

Yay! Cannot wait to share more with you. xx K