Sitting far away from Athens, far away from my studio, far away from the familiar rhythm of my everyday life — and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe.
This is my first post here on Substack, and it feels like opening a door. Not a door to something new, exactly — but a door back to something I once had: space for thoughts, stories, reflection, and writing.
Because before Instagram became the main place where I share my studio practice, I had a blog.
And in a strange way, this Substack feels like coming full circle.
3rd of January 2026, Antigua Guatemala - learning how to make a Mayan Indigo Vat
How it all started (and why it’s starting again)
The last time I travelled in a way that truly changed me, I started writing.
I was away from everything I thought my future would be, and something inside me was waking up. I wrote about what I was learning, what I was seeing, what I was questioning — and I started shaping the first version of what would later become my life.
I wrote about it in my old blog post, How it all started — a piece I still look back on with tenderness, because it captured that exact moment where everything was still open, still possible.
Back then, I had just finished my studies, and I travelled to Southeast Asia to learn about natural dyes. I was meant to return to London and start a job in a textile print studio — but while I was in Laos, something clicked. I realised I wanted something different. So I did something I didn’t even know I was capable of: I told the studio in London I wasn’t coming back. Instead, I moved to Athens to start my own natural dye studio. I didn’t have a big plan - I just trusted my gut, and in 2019 I started.
20th of September 2018 Chiang Mai, Thailand - Learning how to weave on a backstrap loom
From home… to my dream studio
In the beginning, my “studio” was my house.
Studio/Room in my house, in 2021
It was messy and imperfect. Full of dye pots, yarns and fabrics, and so much hope. But it was mine. Slowly, it began to grow — through experimentation, long days, a lot of work and devotion. I taught there. I welcomed my first interns, first employees, first wholesale orders, first funding. At some point we didn’t fit anymore so I started looking for a new space.
Eventually in 2022, I found my perfect studio. A space that held my work, my vision, my routines, my team, and my dreams. I built my small world in there — with women working beside me, with clients coming in, with textiles hanging everywhere, with colour becoming our language.
Studio 2023
And then… it kept growing. More jobs. More collaborations. Wholesale. Pop-ups. Workshops. Retreats. Constant producing. Constant deadlines.
From the outside, it looked like success. And in many ways, it was.
But the truth is: at some point, the studio stopped feeling like a sanctuary and started feeling like a machine I couldn’t step away from. I felt stuck, I began to feel more of an entrepreneur & business woman, than an artist or designer. I spent more time on the phone or my laptop, than designing, creating, natural dyeing or weaving. I also stopped travelling - I was travelling a lot in Greece for workshops and retreats but I wasn’t travelling outside of Greece to learn more techniques and to expand my knowledge. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I convinced myself that if I left the studio even for a few weeks, everything would fall apart. So I stayed.
The burnout (and the moment everything shifted)
Last year, everything pulled me in opposite directions. My family was going through terrible health issues for months, and at the same time the studio demanded everything from me. Even though everything turned out okay, the emotional weight was enormous.
It was like living in two realities at once — being needed everywhere, and feeling like there was no space left for me. I felt lost, I was angry and sad all the time, and that’s when I knew - something had to change. So in August, I paused. I closed the studio moved to Paros Island for a month. My best friends were there, and I was lucky to teach natural dye workshops at Petra Farm. Being in Paros — with nature, friends, and space — gave me time to think clearly. So in September, I came back and I stepped back.
Teaching in Petra Farm, Paros, August 2025
I decided I want to stop producing clothing the way I used to.
From now on, I want to create made to order clothing only. The designs my brand has, are simple and timeless — what makes them unique is the naturally dyed fabric. And to be honest, I never wanted to own a fashion brand. I’ve never been interested in fashion itself.
So slowly, this transition will begin: the website will show only the designs, and you’ll be able to pre-order. After you do, I will personally email you so we can discuss the technique, the material, and the colour of the piece you’ve chosen — and together we will design your made-to-order item.
I’m doing this because I want to return to my original ethos: creating with you, not just producing for you. I want you to have a relationship with your piece — to love it, to cherish it, to truly make it yours.
And I don’t want to do wholesale anymore.
At the same time, I want to focus more on interior design projects and collaborations with other designers. Last year, some of the projects I enjoyed the most were creating decorative pillows and tableware for restaurants, large textile pieces and curtains for hotels and villas, naturally dyeing yarns for a weaver, and naturally dyeing fabrics and garments for other fashion brands. I love designing and co-creating — and I want to do more of that.
I also love teaching. I love meeting you. I love hiking and foraging with you. I love creating with you. I want to focus more on workshops, and host more retreats around Greece.
All of the above is what excites me in what I do.
That’s my new vision — which, by the way, was also my original vision. I just got lost along the way.
But these choices mean change.
One of the biggest changes is that I no longer have a team. The girls studied fashion design and want to work for fashion brands, and that no longer matches what my studio stands for — or where I’m going. So since October, I’ve been working alone.
I’m taking fewer jobs, minimising production, and when my current stock sells out, everything will be made to order — except for some special limited-edition collections that will come out once in a while. I’m also stepping away from wholesale, and continuing only with a few shops I have strong relationships with.
This has not been an easy shift. It has required letting go of an identity I built for years. But it also feels like returning — to my original vision, and to what I really stand for.
December 2025, working alone again, here naturally dyeing wool yarn for a collaboration with a tapestry designer
Why Guatemala, why now
And now… I’m here.
5th of January 2026, Antigua, Guatemala
On the first of January, as soon as the year changed, I hugged my dog and all my friends, they went to a party and I went to the airport. It was finally time to leave. To explore, to create, to see new things, to learn, to grow.
I’ve been in Guatemala for ten days now. The first five days I spent with an incredible natural dyer - opening my mind, experimenting, feeling inspired again.
Now I’m doing an art residency here, learning traditional textile techniques like embroidery and backstrap weaving, while also having time and space to explore what I’ve learned. I’ve been journaling like crazy: writing notes from workshops, conversations, museums, books, and everything I’m absorbing.
And I decided to restart blogging — so here we are.
After the residency, I’ll travel around Lake Atitlán to learn more about backstrap weaving, embroidery, and natural dyeing, and hopefully visit Momostenango to learn about wool.
Travelling to Southeast Asia changed my life. And I feel Guatemala will bring its own transformation too.
I’m hoping this trip will remind me why I’m doing what I’m doing — who I am, and who I want to be.
The new era (and what this Substack will be)
When I return in February, there will be new workshops, retreats around Greece, and more travelling opportunities — including a group trip in September focused on textiles.
But more than anything, there will be a shift in how I live and create.
From now on, I want to focus on:
travelling and learning from textiles around the world (one new place every January)
teaching and sharing what I know
creating a very limited number of one-of-a-kind pieces
working mostly made to order
living slower, with more space
slowly moving away from Athens and spending less time there (this summer, I plan to work and teach from Paros)
And this is where writing comes in. Writing is how I process, document, share, and connect.
I want this Substack to be a home for studio stories, travel diaries, techniques, lessons, research, beauty, honesty — and this new chapter I’m stepping into.
If you’re someone who loves textiles, colour, craft, slow living, travel, and learning… I think you’ll feel very at home here.
Thank you for being here.
With love,
Christiana
If you’d like to follow this new chapter, you can subscribe to receive my posts directly in your inbox.
And if this story resonated, I’d be so grateful if you share it with someone who might feel at home here too.
I totally understand why you would want to move towards only made to order clothes. I have a similar problem with making (ready-made) clothes and also although I am obsessed with textiles I am really not into fashion at all. I am happy when I make costumes though, there I can just focus on how to make the textile work for whatever it is supposed to do.