'I Dream In Flowers' Bamboo Silk Duster Robe
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- Backordered, shipping soon
We found these incredible light weight printed bamboo kimonos while treasure hunting and fell instantly in love with the artistic patters and incredible hand feel. They'll make you feel like the goddess you are. Easily layers over tops, sweaters and dresses for a touch of luxury in any season.
"A riotous, painterly celebration of art and the natural world, this exquisite duster is all at once romantic, ethereal, and so so cool. Inspired by the romance of European flower markets, we created this kimono using a masterful oil painting from the early 1600’s by artist Jan Brueghel, and an ink drawing of bumblebees we found in a Victorian insect encyclopedia. It has the look of a treasured vintage piece that will never go out of style. Dress it up or down — either way, expect compliments!"
Timeless and ethereal, this painterly piece can be worn so many different ways — from edgy to elegant. Dress it up or down, tie it up or wear it loose and flowing. We love it in the fall with a leather legging or distressed jeans and boots, and in the summer over a jumpsuit or linen pant. Of course, you can also dress this one way, way up — add it to a simple slip dress and a dramatic pair of earrings for a romantic, showstopping evening look. And after the party you can lounge in it too.
Inspired by Jan Bruegel, a highly influential Flemish artist, perhaps best known for his lavish, colorful, and highly detailed floral paintings. Many of his still-life floral arrangements are combinations of common flowers and very rare ones, and often are composed of flowers that bloom during different seasons. He regularly travelled outside of his home in Antwerp so he could find and sketch unusual flowers for his painted bouquets. The effusive colors and delightful details in his work are rich, celebratory and (we think) pure magic when printed on to our soft bamboo fabric.
100% bamboo/wood viscose. Machine wash gentle or hand wash and hang to dry. Iron to finish if needed.
Kimono measurements: length 116cm, width 78 cm (across back, underarm to underarm). Model is 5’5” for reference.
ABOUT MARKET OF STARS
Forever ago, I was a writer. It was something I spent much of my young life immersed in, and something I totally abandoned when I decided to open my brick-and-mortar stores in my mid-twenties. I became consumed with making my shops a success, and somewhere in the whirlwind of business— and then later, in the wilderness of motherhood — I put down my pen and simply forgot to pick it up again.
But during the 2020 lockdown as I struggled to save my biz, homeschool my daughter, and keep my feral anxiety leashed, I began to see that I needed some kind of creative outlet to survive.
I reached out to a long time mentor and friend, who was going through her own small business crisis at the time. I told her I felt like I was suffocating.
“Here’s what you need to do,” she said. “Go outside and lie down. Look up at the stars.”
She told me to imagine every stress, worry, and burden as a rope tied to my body, pulling me in every direction.
“Picture a sword above your head,” she said. “It’s sharp. It’s heavy. It’s about to fall on you. Now take a big, deep breath and imagine you are taking hold of the sword. Pluck it from the sky and USE IT. Cut all the ropes with it, all the worries, the burdens —feel them fall away. Use what is threatening you as a tool to be free.”
I put on a coat and a scarf and dragged my old yoga mat out to my frozen lawn.
I lay down and looked up at the night sky. It felt hard to breathe. It felt silly and desperate and painful all at once, but I reached up to take hold of that imaginary sword threatening to hurt me. And I cut all the ropes, and I cried for a long time.
But here’s the thing: when I stopped crying, I saw there were stars above me.
So many stars, steady and luminous and filled with magic.
I got up and went inside, and I started to write again, to dream again.
And that night I created Market of Stars.
Wherever these words find you, I hope you know that whatever you’re going through, however alone you feel, you can always, always look up.
In Stardust We Trust