From Issue 111 — Children of the Urf

Life, like craft, is a work in progress, and so am I.

Improvement isn’t optional, it’s tradition. For Black people, excellence has never been a luxury. It has always been a necessity. We’ve had to go further, work harder, and refine more deeply just to be considered for a fraction of the opportunities freely given to our white counterparts. That reality didn’t break us, it sharpened us. It taught us how to evolve, how to adapt, how to keep becoming.

Children of the Urf is built on the understanding that “always getting better” isn’t pressure, it’s inheritance. And “know what’s good for you” is both advice and reminder: to trust your instincts, honor your craft, and move with intention. These aren’t just slogans; they’re ways of living, ways of working, ways of seeing ourselves clearly.

I’m working to ensure that this brand is made up of tinkers and thinkers, people who work with their hands and their minds, who experiment, question, refine, and return to the work again and again. At its core, Children of the Urf is about shaping self-esteem, finding what brings people out of their shells. 

My time at Parsons School of Design was rooted in play, exploration, and self-discovery. Fashion, to me, has always been about identity and storytelling. In a space like Parsons, I stood out simply by showing up as myself. Add the audacity of being proud of who I am, where I come from, and the fearlessness to claim it, and making a statement became inevitable.

My life, especially my time in school, was defined by self-discovery, discipline, and refinement. I began millinery design during my thesis year, and what started as a component of a collection quickly became a pillar of my practice. Now, it’s a pillar of my life. Falling in love with this craft has been one of life’s truest delights. There’s always room to improve, that’s a given. At least I can admit it. What I’m building is rooted in my inner child, the part of me that still believes in fantasy, the version of myself not bound by the world’s limitations. That child still lives with me, and through my creative practice, I challenge what I’ve been taught about those limits. In honoring that voice, I’m carving out my own lane within the world of millinery, something honest, refreshing, and deeply true to me.

Right now, both the brand and I are in a special stage of becoming. As we engage with this dying craft, we’ve begun showing up in the few remaining spaces that still cherish it, and once again, we stand out. Like millinery itself, I enjoy flipping things on their head, seeing opportunities where others see constraints, and fully utilizing my perspective on the world. I view my Blackness as ever-expanding. Within the company, that’s where our point of view begins; where it ends is something still unfolding.

We’re finding our audience, and our audience is finding us, naturally, day by day, never forced. Each person who connects becomes part of the story. Every hat sold feels like someone taking a chance on me, a leap of faith we take together.

Children of the Urf is still becoming, just like me. Always learning. Always crafting. Always improving. And if you’re willing to grow with us, there’s a crown waiting for you.