The Hiatus Project

06/23/2026

Some things take time. These did. 🤍

Slow fashion. Real fabric. Made on my time.
Rested. Restored. Remade.

The Hiatus Project… hand-sewn from reclaimed natural fibers, one piece at a time.

06/23/2026

Some things take time. These did.

Not everything needs to be "next-day" delivery. Every piece you see here was made slowly. Between resting. Between appointments. Between life doing what life does.
Reclaimed fabric. Vintage linens. Denim that already had a life.

Nothing here was rushed or comes from a drop-shipper. That's slow fashion. That's The Hiatus Project.
From patriotic denim jackets and appliquéd hoodies to tablecloth tops and grannie's lace... these pieces carry history forward in a new way.
Rested. Restored. Remade.
A huge thank you to my gorgeous niece Kinley Shipley and her beautiful friends for wearing these pieces with so much joy and personality. You all made them shine.

Spoiler: Some of these and more will drop at Studio Zen this week.

05/21/2026

Dropping something new at Studio Zen
tonight.

A few things that have been living on my cutting table finally get to go live in the world.

Yoga mat slings - reclaimed fabric, made to carry the thing that carries you through the hard stuff. Two of them. They won't last.

Headbands - each one cut from something that used to be something else.
Comfortable elastic back, wide enough to actually stay put.

And two types of cleansing pads:

The Rough Draft - exfoliating cloths. For fresh starts and hard-earned endings.
The Clean Slate - cleansing cloths. Gentle enough for eyes, strono enough to start over.

Both packaged and ready to gift. Both made from reclaimed natural fiber.

Find them all at Studio Zen in Anderson. Can't make it there? Custom orders available - just reach out.
Rested. Restored. Remade.

04/30/2026

I looked fine. I still look fine. But you should see my insides.

For a long time, I thought the answer was to try harder. Push more. Stay longer. Keep going. Say yes when everything in me meant no, and call it strength.

What nobody could see was the inside. Tangled. Fraying. Held together by will and the fear of letting people down who probably weren’t losing sleep over me.

Here’s what took me way too long to learn:

Exhaustion isn’t weakness. Fatigue isn’t laziness. Sometimes things are hard… not because we’re not trying hard enough, but because they’re wrong for us. Because the people in that space cost more than the thing itself ever could. For those of us wired differently, navigating a world that wasn’t built with us in mind, saying no isn’t about the doing. It’s about who’s in the room. What it costs just to be there. To mask, manage, translate ourselves in real time so everyone else stays comfortable.

And then there’s my body, quietly keeping score this whole time. Neuroendocrine cancer didn’t negotiate. It just eventually made the choice for me.

So I stopped. Not all at once. Not cleanly. But I am learning to stop showing up as someone else.

And I’m taking the time to introduce me to me.

Part of that looks like picking up a brush instead of a needle. Trying watercolors at Studio Zen in a room full of strangers – tapping into a creativity that never felt safe or achievable or mine. Not because I suddenly felt ready. Because the people made the space feel safe enough to try. That kind of community – unscripted, unpressured, just people showing up for themselves in the same room – I didn’t know I needed it until I was already in it. Right in the middle of unraveling and becoming.

And then back to the needle. The mending. Taking something worn and torn and deciding it’s still worth the slow, careful attention. Stitch by stitch. No shortcuts.

Me and those damn jeans have so much in common.✨

Rest is not something we earn. The right path doesn’t ask us to abandon ourselves to walk it.

I’m still figuring out who I am underneath all the pushing through. Still stitching. Still learning to stay in the room with myself.

03/26/2026

03/26/2026

I didn’t set out thinking about patching.
I just started making something…
and somewhere along the way, it became more than that.

It became patching.
Not the pretty kind.
Not the kind you plan.

The kind where something wears thin
and you don’t throw it away…
you reinforce it.

Piece by piece.
Stitch by stitch.
Holding together what could’ve come undone.

These aren’t just scraps.
They’re stories.
Different textures, different tension, different lives…
forced to learn how to sit side by side.

Some seams are clean.
Some are loud.
Some weren’t meant to match… but they hold anyway.

That’s the part that gets me.

Because the work isn’t about hiding the break.
It’s about honoring it.
Building around it.
Letting it become part of the structure.

I’m not done with these yet.
Not even close.

But neither am I.

03/20/2026

I made pants.

Like… actual pants.
From scratch.
No direction. No clue. Just vibes and a little bit of chaos.

And I won’t lie,
there were moments I wanted to quit halfway through.
Moments where nothing lined up, nothing made sense, and I questioned why I even started.

Because I want to go fast.
I want to be good already.
I want it to come together without the messy middle.

But this… this right here is the messy middle.

The scraps.
The uneven stitches.
The slow, tedious, “what am I even doing” parts.

And the slow stitching
the part that forces me to sit still longer than I want to
to pay attention
to not rush through something just to get to the next thing.

And also…
the part where something starts to take shape anyway.

I’m learning how to:
✨slow down without feeling like I’m falling behind
✨make things before I feel ready
✨let it be imperfect and keep going

Because apparently… that’s where the good stuff lives.

And maybe this whole thing…
this slowing down, this starting over, this figuring it out as I go - isn’t me getting lost.

It’s me becoming something I haven’t been before.

Anyway… I made pants.
And somehow that feels like more than just pants.

03/19/2026

I dropped off a fresh batch at Studio Zen yesterday…

One of a kind
Reclaimed
Hand-stitched
Never happening the same way twice

If you’ve been watching The Hiatus Project… this drop is bolder, louder, more honest

There aren’t many of each
And once they’re gone… they’re gone

Also… don’t sleep on the rest of the shop
Studio Zen is full of those little unexpected finds
books, gifts, pieces you didn’t know you needed until you see them

Go wander
Try things on
Find your piece

Rested. Restored. Remade.

03/10/2026

Roadtrip to Cleveland for a check-up. Brought a little hand stitching with me because sitting still has never really been my style. So while the miles roll by, I’m adding a few more stitches to this beauty.

Pieces like this remind me how much more interesting the world is when people show up exactly as they are. Less judgment. More love. More color. More courage.

A few more miles, a few more stitches.