The Dreamer 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.

"Created for the moon goddess in all of us, this piece is based on a stunning portrait of Georgiana Spencer, the Duchess of Devonshire, painted in 1781 by artist Maria Cosway. Spencer —who was the great-great-great-great aunt of the late Diana, Princess of Wales — was a well-known fashion icon, scandalous writer and political activist in her day. She commissioned Maria Cosway to paint her as the Goddess of the Moon from the poem The Faerie Queen. The result was a luminous, magical depiction of feminine strength."

This kimono jacket features Cosway’s masterpiece on the back, and a swirling moonlit sky on the front. It’s trimmed on the placket and sleeves in a custom-created celestial moon-and-stars pattern.

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 5’5” 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