The story

I grew up wearing handmade sweaters knitted by my mother and sister, though as a maker I was always drawn to textiles and dressmaking. Before working with clay, I spent several years teaching Yoga, and that commitment to living consciously and intentionally firmly remains at the heart of everything I do.

I enjoy long walks, the way birds chatter before dawn, the sound of raindrops on tent canvas, all shades of green, the smell of lilac, muted earthy tones paired with vibrant colours. I can happily spend hours in deep introspection, talking about philosophy or watching clouds form and dissolve as they move across the sky. My preference for quiet simplicity is reflected in everything I create.

A while ago, a friend gave me a handful of seeds as a gift and I thought “What lovely buttons these would make!”. I modelled them and began making a few each day from leftover clay scraps, and soon after, they had become my main creative focus.

These buttons are the perfect canvas for me to play with colour and texture, and to honour the spirit of creation without adding unnecessary weight to the world. It is a source of great wonder to see them bringing people together in a kind of giddy, shared fascination. My hope is that wearing them on your knitting, crochet, sewing or other creative projects will act as a reminder to embrace the beautiful imperfection of being human and to move through the day a little more slowly and mindfully.

Each button goes through a surprisingly intricate process: shaping and carving, drying, firing, glazing, and firing again. Their small size makes them delicate and prone to cracking during production, and even the holes require careful timing—pierce too early and the shape warps, too late and the button breaks. Cleaning is another patient step, ensuring glaze doesn’t run into the holes and render them unusable. I then check each one again and attach them onto a card ready to be sent out into the world. Though tiny, these buttons demand care at every stage, and I love the whole process—from wedging the clay to opening the kiln and finding each piece transformed, tough and unique.