One of the most requested items, that didn’t exist— Until now.

We have been frequently asked over the years:

Is there a Folkling shirt?

Will you please make a Folkling shirt?

Will there ever be a Folkling shirt?

It was a proverbial can that we kicked down the road that we thought we’d address when we had proper branding done.

Use it up, wear it out, make do or do without.

This was the mindset of so many of the generations before ours, before mine.

To be sure, it was born out of necessity, rather than any real romantic or artful notion. The bulk of the feedsack garments and folk art from this collection came from the decades of the Great Depression, which is not a time in our history to be romanticized.
And yet the garments, homewares, objects and art from this time seem to evoke a real feeling of artful romanticism.

Paying attention—

A phrase so common, so often uttered (especially by adults to children), the true depth of it may be easily overlooked.

Our attention, our time, is one of our most precious resources. If not THE most precious.

One we cannot get back.

One we will eventually run out of.

I have been thinking a lot about what it truly means to still our minds, be present, put blinders on to the millions of other stimuli constantly vying for our attention, and instead placing it intentionally on one singular person/object/task/experience— what a rarity that is.

How bad I am at doing that at all, let alone consistently.

Fall is slowly unfolding here at the Folkling House and much of the inspiration for our upcoming collection has been derived from the nature that can be found around the property.
Truly, one of my favorite things about being in a new space, is witnessing the different new-to-me elements of nature that surround it. I always find something curious, something unexpected.

The captivating amber gradients in the mushrooms, the way the little buds on the beech drops look akin to tiny shells.
The cosmos seeds in all of their articulated wide-handed glory, right before they take their leave for the soil below.

Despite our being quiet online, it’s been a busy season of life readying for our re-opening.
There has been more stress and unexpected setbacks in the process of it all than I like admitting.
But these moments of pausing and directing attention, however brief, to nature and its ever changing vignettes feels rewarding and worth taking the time for.
A reminder of what all of this effort is for.

It’s hitting me harder than I expected.

Saying goodbye to this space.

I have never grieved the closing of a door in my life like this one.

WE ARE MOVING!



I have written this post in my head while driving down the road so many times.


I am right now warring with the desire to get into the thick of it with you, tell you how and why and when we arrived at this decision.


All that lays behind it and before it. 


All of the heaviness and lightness and full hearted emotion that led Owen and I to making this decision. 



But this post isn’t for that.

That story telling will come. 



For now all you need to know is that this edition of Folkling, this particular brick & mortar season, is coming to an end.