Spring /21
caressed by the rays
of the waking sun

WHY WILL EVERYTHING BE THIS WAY?

I’ve said many times that speaking about spring comes easily to me—my thoughts seem to have been patiently lined up since the end of Christmas, just waiting to be set free.

This time, as I tap away at the keyboard and occasionally let my gaze wander outside, it feels like I’m preparing to speak of something far away. Beyond the still-growing snowdrifts and the pine branches bowed under winter’s weight, spring doesn’t seem to be here yet.

I close my eyes and try to imagine. When this drift melts, my fragrant thyme will poke its nose through the earth. When that appears, timid rose bushes will stretch toward the sun. When they fade, my lavender will blink its violet eyes. The sky will no longer resemble yesterday’s dumpling, and the slowly swirling snowflakes will vanish, promising to return next year… a month before Christmas.

But while imagining and recalling what sleeps beneath each snowdrift, one can rejoice that no winter storm has disturbed springtime thoughts. They are neatly lined up, shaken fresh many times, waiting.

We’ve been arranging spring bit by bit, and even as storms rage, roads become nearly impassable, frosts bite like Antarctica, and polkas swirl around a crowned little virus dancing wildly, not a single doubt arose—spring will come. Not just come, but burst forth in all its strength, carrying a longing that:

Will not only melt the soft snowdrifts, reveal the frosts, and fend off uninvited guests masked with crowns, but also press a button in our hearts that revives the frozen fountains of mood for reasons unknown and restores the desire to move mountains—to outrun even spring itself, bursting with buds and confidence.

When laying out the colors of Mr. Spring, we already knew two of them since last February. While photographing the blue “milkshake” dress against the warm brown wall of my house, we all gasped in unison: “Wow, such a beautiful and unexpected combination.” Even then, after the shoot, comfortably stretching my tired legs on the little sofa, I knew what our late-winter spring would look like.

Only one darker tone remained to join in—the kind that traditionally appears in the warmer season’s collections. Why? Because some days, as dictated by the weather and mood, the combination of an “arrived” day has to be dark—but beautiful.

Believe it or not, the unrealized “Black” collection didn’t dictate the third spring color—it had already been decided long before the sad choice of not letting carefully planned work see the light. Yet once the decision was made, we didn’t grieve or surrender to sadness. We simply rejoiced once more that part of the wardrobe could join the obediently resting spring, and we wrapped up your sets.

Brighter or darker, bursting with color, unexpectedly paired duets, or staying close to classic shades, and again repeating the phrase we unconditionally believe: “My life is too colorful to avoid black.”

Let spring gush with fountains of color and joy.
Let winter’s end happen not only outside the window, but in our hearts, in our outfits, and in our moods.

Agreed?

And now… without waiting, without delay, and without letting anyone destroy or change anything…
WE UNLEASH a beautiful, vibrant SPRING.

Mua,
V.