Plans I Almost Cancelled

Why settle for one protective eye when you can have an entire audience protecting your aura? 

If you’ve heard that Andrew Garfield quote, “she was like a shot of espresso”,  and felt like you’ve never experienced that kind of love, try this bag. It’s warm, it’s rich, and unlike a toxic ex, it will actually hold your things and look good in photos. It's fully lined with bronze satin and has a metallic gold-tone chain intertwined with a printed silk-style scarf. THE ESPRESSO SHOT bag is wide enough to keep your tablet or e-reader safe in a silky, satin cocoon. 

Some bags carry books, this one carries tea. This bag was crocheted during a four-hour gossip session with one of my friends. She called me and informed me that I needed to be available immediately because she had the craziest tea to spill (obviously,I grabbed my crochet hook).  And let me tell you: she did not disappoint. For four uninterrupted hours, I listened, gasped, judged people I had never met, changed my opinion several times, defended the indefensible, gave extraordinarily wise advice, and somehow ended up emotionally invested. In the background, this bag came into existence (to be completely honest, nobody really cared about her at the time. Sorry, babe.) Every stitch contains traces of დაქალობა, dramatic plot twists, questionable life choices made Oh how I love the sacred amphibian tradition of receiving information that is absolutely none of my business.

This is the basket-bag for the first truly warm weekend of spring, when the sun finally feels like it has decided to stay. “After sleepless drunken nights, you'll rest yourself on sacred doors...” right? Or maybe not. Maybe instead, you'll answer the messages you've been postponing for months.Maybe you'll put on your breeziest clothes, grab your lip gloss, your journal, and a book you've been carrying around more as a symbol of hope than an actual reading commitment.And you'll go outside, to the park, to your friends – those missed, familiar faces that still stayed through the senseless, freezing days you survived. You'll sit on the grass while children laugh somewhere in the distance and dogs sprint across the field with their tongues out, delighted to be alive. The air will smell like spring, a bit lighter, a bit softer—the scent of spring flowers blooming. And for a brief moment, you'll realize that winter is over. The title is inspired by Galaktion Tabidze's iconic poem სილაჟვარდე ანუ ვარდი სილაში // Azure-Land or Rose in Sand. While his poem is depressingly beautiful, this bag is a continuation of the life our dearest Galaktion—and so many of our own—never got to experience.  

This bag was inspired by a very specific mood: staring out of the window, thinking poetic thoughts, and being vaguely sad for aesthetic reasons.

My friends love to joke about the time I bought four bags in a single day in Italy and immediately went broke, left with no money for food or any other necessities. It was worth it, though!

At some point while crocheting this collection, I became obsessed with creating designs that were completely unique and extraordinary.

Made for nights out 🍸  Intentionally small, because carrying less is self-care (and there simply isn't room for your work things "just in case"). Fits a lip gloss, keys, a mirror, and stories you'll tell differently tomorrow 🐸

I thought I was doing it wrong, turns out I was inventing something.

I often remember lunch time at summer camp and the cocoa I would sip every afternoon. I remember it, yet I remember nothing: neither the scent, nor the taste, nor the stories from that camp. 

At some point while crocheting this collection, I became obsessed with creating designs that were completely unique and extraordinary.

At some point while crocheting this collection, I became obsessed with creating designs that were completely unique and extraordinary.

This bag was inspired by a revolutionary idea: what if I left the house? Not forever, obviously. Let’s not get carried away. Just long enough to sit somewhere sunny, absorb a tiny amount of vitamin D, stare dramatically into the distance, and pretend I am a resilient little plant instead of a chronically online amphibian.  A few seconds in the park, and suddenly sunshine on my shoulder enters my system and starts photosynthesis. Maybe there’s still hope for me after all. This bag is for carrying books you’ll probably finish someday, lip gloss you’ll lose by next week, and all those fragile little hopes that somehow survive every winter.