Centenary!

CENTENARY! plays in my mind, and through it a wave of “math” flows.

If in recent years we release 8–9 collections per year, and each of them includes on average 20–25 new models, then in one year we “calculate” about 200 new pieces. When we multiply this number by 15 years of activity… we get “around” 3000…

No. Not just garments.
But a kind of our “children,” whom before releasing into the world we take responsibility for—“that they wear well,” “that they are not lonely,” “that they bring joy,” “that they collect compliments and create a sense of self-confidence for the woman who trusts us.”

Was this “hundred” only rainbows and unicorns, or did success always burst with sparkling foam? Did everyone always applaud and admire?

Oh brother (and sisters), NO.

We walked through both warm and cold. Sometimes we “scooped up” such unpleasant consequences of “didn’t work out” that deep inside there would bubble up a desire: “to go and work 8–5 and leave everything that irritates behind the door.”

But here… you close the door and before you even manage to get into the car, all the “oh no” and “what do we do now” and “how do we solve this?” are already comfortably sitting in the passenger seats.

If I said that this “HUNDRED” collections simply “blinked and passed,” I would be lying. It’s more like raising a child—only from the outside you hear: “Wow, you didn’t even notice and he’s already a grown man, not a little kid!”

If you asked what it felt like to reach that solid triple-digit number—know this: WOW, it really “hit me in the head,” and although there wasn’t much time for reflection because one persistent thought kept buzzing like a fly—“just hope the workshop fire alarm doesn’t go off from the smoke…”—I still blew it out with a very full heart.

WE DID IT—something I never even dared to dream about.
TO GROW into MATURITY.

Mother of the 100th,
V.