Skip to content
New Scarves Are Coming
Renata seated on a mossy boulder in a pine forest, face turned up into a shaft of sunlight, a gold mesh veil falling down her back.

Veils & scarves · knotted by hand

Woven light,knotted by hand.

The manifesto

I knot every piece by hand, loop by loop, until the thread learns to hold light. No two are the same, because no two days in the forest are the same.

— Renata

Every piece begins as a single thread and ends as something that holds light. Made slowly. Worn softly. One of one.

Renata crouched on stones in a forest stream, hooded in gold mesh, holding its long knotted tails over the water.

Fig. 1 — Dew Net, at the river

The pieces · N° 01 — 06

Made slowly,
one of one.

Each veil is knotted once and never repeated. When a piece is gone, it's gone — the next one will be its own.

Chapter I

The Forest

Moss, cold water, a shaft of light through the pines. The pieces were first worn here — barefoot, on stone — where the sequins look most like dew.
Renata seated on a mossy boulder in a pine forest, face turned up into a shaft of sunlight, a gold mesh veil falling down her back.
I.1Where the light falls first.
The long fringed tails of the mesh held above a forest stream.
I.2Tails long enough to touch the water.
Renata crouched on stones in a forest stream, hooded in gold mesh, holding its long knotted tails over the water.
I.3Hooded, barefoot, listening.
Renata sitting on moss beneath tall pines, looking down at the gold mesh in her hands.
I.4The mesh, and the hands that made it.

“The forest decides a little of every piece.”

Open the lookbook →

Chapter II

The Salon

An old room with hand-painted walls, a sage silk dress, afternoon light. The same thread, brought indoors — where it turns soft and painterly, like something found in a grandmother's drawer.

“An heirloom that hasn't been inherited yet.”

N° 03 — Salon Sage →
Renata in profile against faded hand-painted floral wallpaper, a gold mesh veil over her head and a sage silk dress.
Renata leaning on painted wallpaper, gold mesh draped as a hood and shoulder cape with long tails.
Close-up of the mesh worn as a shoulder cape over sage silk, knotted like a spider's web.

Fig. 2 — worn as a cape

How to wear it

Four ways to wear light.

Renata crouched on stones in a forest stream, hooded in gold mesh, holding its long knotted tails over the water.

Hood

Draw it over the crown and let the tails fall forward — the mesh frames the face without hiding it.

Pieces to wear this way →
Renata sitting on moss beneath tall pines, looking down at the gold mesh in her hands.

The maker

One pair
of hands.

I'm Renata. I make every piece myself — choosing the thread, knotting the mesh, setting each sequin by hand — and I wear them first, in the places that inspired them.

There is no factory and no pattern book. Just thread, time, and the light in whatever room or clearing I happen to be working in.

1

Pair of hands

0

Machines

1/1

Every piece

Read Renata's story →

From thread to veil

  1. Step 01

    Choosing the thread

    Olive-gold, metallic, a little stubborn. Chosen by how it looks in daylight, never under a lamp.

  2. Step 02

    Casting the first knot

    The first row sets the rhythm of the whole piece. It is often undone and begun again.

  3. Step 03

    Knotting the mesh

    Loop by loop, row by row, until the width feels right against the shoulders.

  4. Step 04

    Sequins & tails

    Sequins are set where the light would land. The tails are left long enough to move.

Our promise

One of one

No two pieces are ever knotted the same. When one is gone, the next will be its own.

From the making

Close enough to see the knots.

Follow along on Instagram →
Hands working the loose gold mesh on a mossy rock.
Close-up of the gold mesh veil framing Renata's face against painted wallpaper.
Close-up of the knotted gold mesh across a shoulder, sequins catching the light.
Close-up of the mesh worn as a shoulder cape over sage silk, knotted like a spider's web.
Close-up of the gold mesh veil glinting in forest sunlight.
The long fringed tails of the mesh held above a forest stream.

Letters

Letters from the forest.

A few times a year: new pieces before anyone else, notes from the making, and the occasional photograph of moss.