The Red Thread
Every house begins with a single thread. Mine is red.
It runs from a woven rug on my grandparents’ wall in Moldova, through the folk dress of my country and the discipline of a column, to a coat I wore as a girl. Every seam was closed by hand, every fibre is natural, every piece exists once.
I made these clothes to be kept.
Photographs: Ekaterina Todorova




