Returning to Where the Threads Begin
Let’s take a moment and get a bit more personal.
This past weekend was nothing short of extraordinary. My sister got married in Roatán, Honduras, a place that already carries so much weight in our family story. I have nine siblings, and her now-husband (still wild to say) has four. So two enormous families descended on this small island, filling it with laughter, history, and a kind of joyful chaos only big families understand.
My Father’s Blazer and Slacks
Fabric: Drago from their book, Sunlit. A Silk, Cotton, Wool blend. Ideal for the hot weather.
The Groom’s Outfit
Fabric: Dormeuil, from the Naturals Book. Silk and Wool blend. He wore a jacket for the ceremony and then ditched it for the vest.
And I’m not going to breeze past being one of ten like it’s normal. My parents had five biological children and then adopted five more, four of them from Honduras. Most of us returned to the country for the first time ever last year, and my sister felt such a deep connection that she chose to begin her marriage there. Coming back again, this time to watch her say “I do” surrounded by both of our families, was overwhelming in the most beautiful way.
One of the greatest honors of the weekend was getting to dress several of the attendees: the groom, my father, and one of my brothers. There is something almost ethereal about watching people you love step into garments that were built stitch by stitch by real human hands, people who gave their time, their attention, their skill to create something meant to accompany a moment.
Many of the makers in my factories in New York and New Jersey come from countries all over the world. Alejandra, from our Rochester factory, is actually from Honduras. And when you begin to understand the people behind your clothing, their stories, their journeys, their heritage, you start to see how those threads weave into your own life.
Clothing stops being “product.” It becomes connection. Memory. Legacy.
And in moments like this past weekend, standing in a place that shaped so much of my family, watching my sister begin a new chapter—I’m reminded again that the value of a garment isn’t just in the craftsmanship. It’s in the lives, histories, and hands that bring it into the world.
Because when you know the maker, the meaning becomes immeasurable.
