top of page

New life.

​

When I sat down to design this collection, I was drawn to a letter from St. Catherine of Siena where she describes the Incarnation:

​

"We image your divinity, but you image our humanity in that union of the two which you have worked in a man."

​

That union of two.  I imagined fabric being folded over and a needle piercing two places at once, just as Jesus's divinity and humanity are unified.  Just as the fabric of time is folded over and Jesus, nailed to the tree of life, redeems Eden on Calvary.

​

It seems impossible to wrap our minds around God's presence in all places at once.  It truly stretches our hearts in contemplation- like a mother's body stretching, wrapping around a new life.

​

It makes me feel small.

​

And not in a lonely way.  In a way that is appropriate to awe.

I felt this way when I was younger, forming my faith in Catechesis of the Good Shepherd.

 

There is a work we use to contemplate the Incarnation called La Fettuccia.  The children slowly unspool a long, dimpled ribbon. Each indentation marks 100 years.  We walk along it, all unfurled, seeing the vastness of time, the small moment of the Incarnation, and how it holds us even now.

​

That moment of awe at the vastness of time gives way to wonder upon realizing that Christ came into time, into our littleness, and made His home among us.  A single rose, blooming outside Eden.

A new Eden was planted by the divine gardener, the new Adam.  Time folded over and Eden met Calvary; new life began as both moments were pierced.  This contemplation gave way to the folds and flowers that form this collection.

I often think how God is present to all of my life, all at once.  This seems appropriate, since my childhood brimmed with gardens, dirt and dreamlands.  I wanted to capture that magical earnestness of childhood imagination, and pull in the presence of different times in fashion history- all present at once.  I hope it whisks you away in a contemplative reverie of hope:

​

One that is bright, blooming, and VERDANT.

​

Yours, 

Veronica

bottom of page