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Peace Wine and Sunshine Pixie Duster (Cropped Length)

$129.00

We have a deep appreciation for the simplest pleasures: the sun on our faces, a glass of wine shared with friends. This piece is a simple pleasure too — created using a cool collage of botanical prints and lithographs from the late 1800’s, and just a delicate whisper of blush for the background. It’s trimmed on the placket and sleeves using a stunning heritage font that we reconstructed to spell out our grocery list of needs: peace, wine and sunshine baby!

100% bamboo/wood viscose. Machine wash gentle or handwash and hang to dry. Iron to finish if needed.

Kimono measurements: length 58cm, width (across back, underarm to underarm) 74cm. Model is 5’7” for reference.

“Live in the sunshine,
Swim the sea,
drink the wild air.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson 

“I have drunken deep of joy, and I will taste no other wine tonight.”

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

“I hope to arrive to my death, late, 
in love, and a little drunk.”
- Atticus

How To Wear

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This one is the perfect piece to throw on everyday, over anything black! We love it paired with flowy cropped palazzos or high waist flares, or layered over a boat-neck tee and jeans for a French beatnik vibe. And speaking of vibes, accessorize it with a wool fedora and a glass of wine ;) 

Our Muse

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The sun-seeker, the flower child. Women who love to feel their hands in the dirt, and turn their faces toward the summer. Women who run through the wildflowers.

More Inspo

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Historic prints and museum archives are a huge source of inspo for us, particularly old images from print advertising and antique magazines. It’s amazing the amount of detail and charm that these images contain, and they still feel super relevant and (and very cool) today. The prints used in this design date from the early to late 1860s. While there’s a wealth of archival resources from this era online to explore, we love spending an afternoon getting lost in an old bookshop and stumbling upon forgotten treasures.  

The Poem

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Give her the sun
and a porch covered in vines. Years ago
she was rocked in a chair on the lap 
of someone who loved her, 
breathed the sweet smell of milk and strawberries, watched laundry dry on the line, 
and slept. 

Years later on a June day, 
lying in the grass after a kiss 
she stared at the sky and the warm wind
lifted the edges of her dress. 
She smelled it on her skin:
summer itself. Salt and dust,
hay and sand. Toes curled
around stones and wood stairs, 
fruit ripening.

Now and then,
a moment will stretch out
under her gaze. She can pull it apart
with her fingers and feel each second
like drops of wine in her glass.
Sweetness remembered, flowers budding, and fading.
And blooming again.