My love for sewing began early—really early. I remember sitting, utterly transfixed, watching fabric come back together as if nothing had ever happened to it. The invisible stitch felt like a magic trick, one I desperately wanted to master. The hum of the sewing machine, the speed, the precision—it all fascinated me. It felt powerful. Almost spell-like.

That curiosity didn’t stop at needle and thread. Knitting needles, embroidery hoops, yarn in every colour imaginable soon followed. I was forever being told off for leaving trails of wool around the house—half-finished scarves, abandoned jumpers, creative chaos everywhere. I regret none of it.

Sewing was part of the curriculum in my early secondary school years, but as teenage life kicked in, I quickly learned it wasn’t exactly cool. So the needles went into early retirement, tucked away as I turned my attention to the shiny new arrival of the desktop computer. After completing a BA Honours degree in Marketing and Graphic Design, I threw myself into my career.

But sewing never truly left me.

I was always the one reattaching buttons, hemming trousers, taking in dresses. Shortening skirts for friends became a quiet side hustle—though I’d still insist it was “just a hobby.” In truth, it was a skill I wasn’t ready to let go of. I kept that love mostly to myself until I was pregnant with my first child thirteen years ago.

Just over halfway through my pregnancy, I ran into some medical complications and was advised to do very little. Fifteen weeks of stillness stretched ahead of me. So out came the needles and yarn—and that year, my husband bought me a sewing machine for my birthday. Everything changed.

We were gifted a blanket from OKA—fleece on one side, impossibly soft faux fur on the other. I adored it and wanted another for the bedroom. But with a £400 price tag, I decided to see if I could recreate it myself. I did. Then I made another. And another. Blanket after blanket, experimenting with fabrics, learning how they moved, how they behaved, how they wanted to be handled.

My copycat blanket

Double sided - super soft leopard print faux fur on one side and teal cotton fleece on reverse

Another copycat double sided blanket

Ultra soft snow leopard faux fur on one side and distressed grey cotton velvet on the other.

From there, I turned my hand to children’s gilets—lined, cosy, and adorned with unicorns. Conveniently, I had two small toddlers ready to model them. By then, the hobby was in full swing.

There was a voice inside me—persistent and gently insistent—whispering life’s too short. It became impossible to ignore. “Do what you love and love what you do” wasn’t just a saying anymore; it was a direction.

Tilly’s favorite gilet.

Super soft cream faux fur gilet, lined with unicorns and an extra long pile pink neon heart on the back.

One of my window seat projects

Missoni-esque end of line zig-zag fabric on a luxurious duck egg blue velvet from one of my happy places - Painswick fabrics.

Combining my love of graphic design with sewing is where the cushions were conceived.

Ironically, I hadn’t made zipped and piped cushions before. They’re often considered entry-level projects, but I wanted to create cushions with the highest possible finish. So I taught myself—every style of piping, fringes, zips, blind stitches. Days spent sewing, unpicking, resewing. Hand-cutting patterns. Measuring obsessively. Using Pi to calculate bolsters. Working out exactly which fabric dimensions best suited which cushion size.

It turns out cushions are an art form in themselves.

A year later—and well over 200 cushions under my belt—I can honestly say the joy of making each one remains unchanged. Every cushion still excites me. I still love it, deeply.

As ZIGGATI continues to evolve, there are countless ideas waiting to take shape. New projects, new forms, new stories to tell.

But for now… you’ll just have to watch this space.

As ZIGGATI evolves there are so many other projects waiting to take form, but you’ll just have to watch this space.