Most fashion starts with a sketch. Rini starts with a length of cloth, often before we know what it will become.
That order matters to us. A fabric like bazin, adire or batik arrives already carrying a technique, a trade history, and the hands of the people who made it. Design, in that light, is less an act of invention than an act of listening: trying to understand what a cloth already knows before deciding what to do with it.
This is also why Rini’s first chapter is not a shop. Before we ask anyone to buy anything, we want to be honest about what these textiles are, where their techniques come from, and which traditions they belong to, clearly, without folding them into one generic idea of “African fabric.”
Fabric carries memory. Our job, for now, is simply to help people slow down enough to notice.