There’s a quiet ritual to working in the studio that I’ve grown to like. It starts simple. Put the samples on the rack. Line up the swatches. Adjust the lighting until the room feels like it’s breathing evenly. Most of the work here isn’t dramatic. It’s tiny decisions that add up until a piece feels inevitable.
The tank taught me that. On paper it’s simple. A ribbed tank. But every choice affects how it lives on the body. The width of the straps. The scoop of the neckline. How the rib hugs without squeezing. You stare at it long enough under the soft lights and you understand why good minimalism is never actually minimal. It’s deliberate.
The bikini sits on my desk more than any other piece. I keep picking it up and turning it over in my hands. It has this strange balance of confidence and softness. The fabric doesn’t fight the body. It follows it. The pattern sits in this sweet spot where it lifts but doesn’t reshape. That’s what makes every model say the same thing. It doesn’t compress. It enhances. It lets them see themselves the way they want to look.
Sometimes the notes I write feel like letters to myself. “Keep the logo subtle.” “Match tones with the fabric, not the swatch card.” “Let the texture breathe.” Things most people won’t think twice about but they shape how the brand feels. Subtlety is a strange kind of loudness when you commit to it completely.
There’s this moment every time I edit photos from a shoot where the whole brand becomes clear again. The 24mm clips. The close handheld portraits. That soft diary feeling like you stumbled into a moment of someone’s day. It reminds me why Bitty works. It’s not trying to perform. It just exists in a way that feels close and real.
The studio is where the identity of the brand sharpens. It’s where the ideas stop floating and start forming edges. It’s where I ask myself if a piece feels like Bitty or if it just looks good. There’s a difference. One belongs in the collection. The other goes back on the rack.
These notes are snapshots of that process. The quiet refining that doesn’t get seen but shapes everything that does.