Our Story

You know that feeling — standing in a store, looking for something truly special for your daughter, and nothing quite captures what she deserves. Everything is either covered in cartoon characters or trying to make a five-year-old look like a teenager.

That was me, twenty-something years ago, standing in a store with my daughter Fiona in my arms. So I did what I'd been doing since third grade — I made it myself. I took a handful of pieces to a farmers market in Eugene, set up a tiny 4x4 booth, and Fi and Me was born.

I named the brand Fi and Me. After Fiona. It was always the two of us.

The way I make clothing is a little unusual. I don't start with a design and go find fabric to fill it. I find the fabric first — and I let it tell me what it wants to become. A tan micro suede covered in lavender embroidery and tiny sequins? That was obviously a coat. I lined it with chocolate brown fleece and people carried those coats to every corner of the world. That's how every Fi and Me piece begins — with something so beautiful it deserves to be built around.

I grew up surrounded by texture and color — rich tapestries, Indian paisleys, ornate things made with care and kept for generations. I think that shaped something in me early. This belief that the things we surround ourselves with actually matter. That a child who grows up wearing something handmade, something chosen with intention, feels something different in her own skin.

Fiona's childhood looked like that belief in action. Nature walks and swim lessons. Arts and crafts and wooden toys. Dolls that looked like woodland creatures instead of plastic things designed to make a little girl wish she looked different. Just beauty, texture, and the feeling of being truly cared for.

That's what I try to put into every dress.

For twenty years, thousands of mothers and grandmothers have trusted Fi and Me to meet the moment — the ones she'll remember long after she's outgrown the dress.

Fiona is older now. She works alongside me. We talk about what we've built — and what it means that the thing I started because of her, she's now a part of making. That doesn't get old.

Because childhood is too magical to save fancy clothes for "later."