Hands Before Words

We didn’t plan to do everything ourselves. We just wanted to design something we truly loved — but every factory we talked to said the same thing: “It looks beautiful, but it can’t be done.”

That sentence became the reason we stopped asking for permission. We realized, if we want it to exist, we’ll have to make it happen with our own hands. Not because we knew how — but because no one else would try.

So we did. And that’s where the madness started. We didn’t have machines, we didn’t have the skills — only endless nights, broken molds, spilled resin, and a stubborn kind of hope.

It wasn’t “trial and error.” It was just chaos — real, messy, exciting chaos. Every time something failed, we laughed first, then tried again. Because it wasn’t about proving we could, it was about not letting go of the thing we believed in.

Machines can make things fast and flawless — but they can’t make things feel alive. We don’t believe any cold process can copy human warmth. Handcraft isn’t nostalgia to us. It’s the shape of our love.

So we learned, step by step, by burning, cracking, failing, fixing. We stopped being just designers. We became makers. And honestly — it felt really, really cool.

This is where our story really began — not with sketches, not with plans, but with two hands and a crazy idea that refused to quit.