It started with a feeling.
You know the feeling of being wrapped up in something soft and feeling completely safe? Most of us had it as babies, in muslin. Then we grew up and forgot about it.
Life got busier and louder. We're always on, always reachable, always tired. And the bedding world kept telling us that luxury means crisp white hotel sheets, as if the answer to a hard day is to sleep like you're checking in somewhere. But a hotel bed isn't home. It's not what you want when you just need to switch off and feel looked after.
When we went looking for that wrapped-up feeling again, it wasn't there. There were baby clothes and thin covers, nearly all of them beige. Nothing felt like that. We kept thinking someone must be making it. Nobody was, so we did.
If something is meant to make you feel safe, you should be able to trust it completely. We couldn't say that about bedding we'd bought from someone else, without knowing where it was grown or how it was made.
So we went to where muslin began. People in South Asia have been weaving it for centuries, and it was once fine enough for royal courts. We could have found a supplier there and left it at that. But it didn't feel right to promise people comfort and safety without knowing the whole story ourselves.
So we started at the very beginning. We sowed the seeds, ploughed the fields and made the fabric ourselves. It took longer, and it was harder. But now, when you get into bed at the end of a long day, we know exactly what's wrapped around you, because we were there for all of it.
