The Artist Bamboo Kimono Cardigan

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.

"We celebrate artists — the ones who break themselves open over and over so they can share their vision with the world. This dreamy, painterly kimono was created by layering works of art from the 1700s— including two painting studies by artist Thomas Gainsborough, and a floral painted wooden frame from the same era by an unknown artist. It’s a piece that feels at once modern and timeless, and utterly unique — just like you."

The moody, rich palette of this piece is soaked in golden-hour sunshine. Pair it with deep red, cobalt blue, mustard, brick… so many painterly colors! Wear it over a basic tee with ripped denim and sandals in the summer, and then transition it in to fall with a black turtleneck and boots. We love this one mixed with other prints as well for a true artisan vibe — think paisley and brocade to echo the baroque feel, or a ticking stripe for a rustic French look. Add a pair of big gold hoops, some rings, and a scarf — express yourself like the creative being you are.

The body of this kimono was created from a 1780s study by English painter Thomas Gainsborough, who later developed it in to the famous painting that hangs in the National Gallery, entitled “Mrs. Richard Brinsley Sheridan”. Artists often create these kinds of intricate “studies” (essentially very detailed early sketches) — working through their creative process before they begin the actual painting. We have long been fascinated with the beauty of these studies — works of art in their own right — and this one of Gainsborough’s truly captured us with the woman’s serene yet commanding expression, and the lush, windswept country landscape behind her. If you compare it with Gainsborough’s finished painting you will see how similar, yet how strikingly different, this study is from the final piece. 

Sometimes our creative process is just as beautiful and meaningful as our final results — in art, and in life. 

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

Kimono measurements: length 78cm, width (across back, underarm to underarm) 74cm. 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