SPRING/SUMMER 2025 COLLECTION

The mind is a roguish strategist who hides surprises in the most unexpected places, how else could I imagine that behind the soft creaking of the door of Can Cebriá the inspiration for my next collection would be waiting for me?

This journey begins at the top of a hill in L'Empordà, fragrant with early flowers and touched by the mid-afternoon sun in early spring. Something in the scent of the earth touched the memory of another hill so different and so alike in Tuscany, my first trip to Italy, to the beautiful Vila where my great-uncle lived with il suo Grande Amore, the beautiful Gina.

It was opening that big wooden gate and the fresh air between its stone walls filled my chest with an ancient and unexpected emotion, a trip to when the world was seen from the height of a girl too used to travel and in need of putting down roots.

Suddenly I remembered myself barefoot on the pebble path on the way to the vegetable garden with my cousins, surrounded by bugs and butterflies, my uncle's radio, a lover of Italian opera, playing at all hours, Aunt Gina cooking her grandmother's dishes, lots of tomatoes, cheeses, aromatic herbs, delicious freshly baked bread, while mine, my beloved magical grandmother, helped me to set the usual tables, pure inspiration, made of flowing linens, delicate and delicate: lots of tomato, cheeses, aromatic herbs, delicious freshly baked bread, while mine, my adored magical grandmother, helped her set the usual tables, pure inspiration, of airy linens, delicate porcelain and sparkling glassware, this time with an Italian touch.

My aunt Gina taught us the passion for the colors of the earth, the fascination for the enchantment of the sunset on the porch between cushions, the respect for nature, the vegetable garden and the wine, the joy of the sunset and the joy of the sunset.íThe joy of the dishes she prepared, full of colors and flavors, the Latin tables where we learned to merge our cultures between gusts of warm air that moved the tablecloths and tickled our legs.

The Italian woman who conquered the heart of my great-uncle, made us all fall in love and we spent in that big family house the most colorful and tasty summers of my childhood. Now I know that although time passes, and makes its thin layer of dust rest on the memories, they revive with a simple blow of wind.

My childhood is just around the corner, camouflaged in the landscapes and people here, which merge with those there, beyond time and space.