the woman behind the blouse

I spent 20 years dressing everyone except myself.

I went to fashion school in Lyon. Top of my class. I had sketchbooks full of ideas — pieces I wanted to make for women like my mother, my aunts, my teachers. Women who worked hard and wanted to feel beautiful without trying too hard.

But life happened. Bills happened. I became a stylist instead.

For twenty years, I dressed other people. Magazine shoots. Ad campaigns. Celebrities who walked red carpets. I stood behind the camera in head-to-toe black, adjusting hems and smoothing collars, making sure everyone else looked perfect.

I was good at my job. I knew exactly how to make someone glow. I just forgot how to do it for myself.

Last summer. Home in Provence. No clients, no shoots, no schedule. Just me in my mother's kitchen with fabric I'd been hoarding for years.

I made a simple linen blouse. Nothing complicated. Just something light, something breathable, something that actually fit the way I wanted clothes to fit.

I wore it to the market the next morning. A woman stopped me between the tomatoes and the cheese.

"Where did you get that?"

I told her I made it. She looked at me like I'd shared a secret.

"You should make more."

I posted a photo that night. By morning, 47 women had asked how to buy it. I made another piece. Same thing. Then another. Word spread — not through ads, but through women sending links to their sisters, their friends, their mothers.

I never planned a business. The business found me.

Now I make 12 pieces of each style. That's it. Every stitch by my hands, in my studio in Provence. When they're gone, they're gone.

I don't design for the woman you were at 25. I design for the woman you are now — more confident, more interesting, and done apologizing for taking up space.

— Lisette 💛