Brand Story
Let me tell you about a village. It’s not a famous one. You won’t find it on any tourist map. It was a peaceful village. My wife grew up there., and where, for generations, almost every family knew how to raise silkworms.
When I first visited, what struck me wasn’t the poverty—though it was there—but the quiet, fading knowledge. Her grandmother’s hands, thin and mapped with veins, could move through a tray of mulberry leaves and instinctively find the healthiest silkworms without looking. She could tell the weather by the sound the wind made in the mulberry fields. This wasn’t just farming; it was a language, a rhythm between people, trees, and the delicate insects that spun their golden cocoons.
But the rhythm was fading. I heard the stories: the back-breaking labour of feeding the worms every few hours, even through the night. The anxiety when a sudden cold snap could wipe out a whole batch. The market price for raw silk that never seemed to match the sweat invested. One by one, the young people left for cities—for jobs that promised steady hours and a paycheck that didn’t depend on the weather or a worm’s appetite. The village grew older, quieter. The once-tended mulberry fields began to grow wild, then were slowly cut back for firewood. It felt like watching a very beautiful, very ancient song being forgotten, note by note.
Around the same time, I was living my own city life—stressed, sleeping poorly, waking up with that familiar frizzed hair and creased face. In my search for a solution, I found myself holding silk pillowcases. And holding them, I thought of that village. I thought of her grandmother’s hands. There was a profound disconnect here: the world was selling “luxury” silk, while the very source of that luxury was dying, seen as a symbol of hardship, not heritage.
The idea didn’t hit me like a lightning bolt. It grew slowly, like a silkworm spinning its thread.
What if the solution to my problem could also be part of a solution to theirs?
What if we could create a brand that didn’t just use silk, but honoured the entire, fragile chain that creates it? Not by charity, but by building a model that made the craft worth sustaining. A model where the price we pay ensures the woman sorting the leaves earns a dignified wage. Where the man tending the mulberry fields can see a future for his son in those trees. Where the value stays in the village, stitch by stitch.
This is the real heart of our brand. It’s not just about better sleep for you (though that is our daily promise to you). It’s about being a bridge.
Every product you hold is a conversation between two worlds:
The ancient world of careful hands: The rejuvenated mulberry leaf, the meticulously cared-for worm, the patient unreeling of the single, perfect filament—a skill her grandmother’s generation holds, and now we are gently, urgently, helping pass on to a new generation who can finally afford to stay home.
The modern need for true restoration: Your exhausted mind, your sensitive skin, your precious, tangled hair—all seeking a genuine, gentle touch in a harsh, fast world.
We are that link. We commit to paying what it truly costs to do this properly and ethically, from soil to spindle. This means our silk will never be the cheapest. But it also means it carries a different kind of value—one you can feel. It’s in the substantial, creamy hand-feel of our 22-momme fabric. It’s in the knowledge that your choice is a small, quiet act of preservation.
When you choose our silk, you’re not just buying an accessory. You’re helping to re-plant a mulberry fields. You’re helping to make a young person in a forgotten village look at their family’s craft and think, “I can build a life on this, here, near my family.” You’re keeping a grandmother’s song alive.
My own sleep is better now, it’s true. But the deeper satisfaction comes from knowing that my wife’s hometown is beginning to hum with a different sound. It’s not the sound of leaving anymore. It’s the sound of looms being cleaned, of mulberry tree being pruned for harvest, not for firewood. It’s the sound of a future being woven, thread by careful thread.
That’s our story. It’s a story of connection, and it starts with your good night’s sleep. Thank you for becoming a part of it.