Lindsay Marie Morris

Landscape paintings interspersed with religious art cover much of the green walls of the dining room, in which designer Lara Morabito studies and works. Several are her own works, each capturing a vista's color and light.

 

"I approach everything like a painting," Lara says. "I start with the infrastructure, and then I layer. I cast broad strokes. If you were painting something more impressionist, you would have smaller movements. But my movements are broad."

 

You can see this vision reflected in her garden and estate design projects. She starts each project with a walk-through, examining the landscape and assessing, among other things, its natural rhythms, light patterns, and focal points. From that, she produces a watercolor sketch to help her clients visualize. She'll even go so far as to spend a night or two onsite to understand better how light and shadows fall across the property.

Part of that comes from her appreciation of Renaissance art. Her family spent nearly two years in Tuscany, where she was exposed to art in Florence while studying garden design.

 

"I would say my aesthetic has a very strong Renaissance and French influence," says Lara. "There are the mathematical components of French design and the big, austere gestures of Renaissance gardens."

 

Another part comes from her unique upbringing. The daughter of Sicilian immigrants grew up on a large estate in southern Ohio, where her father gardened.

 

She taps into that inspiration and heritage with every project—large or small—she works on between Washington, D.C., and California.

 

Lara took time to chat with me about those influences, how she got started, her most memorable project, challenges, advice for budding designers, and more. 

 

 

Tell us about your background.

My grandparents were Sicilian immigrants who landed in Ohio. Their families came because there was a lot of building during the Industrial Revolution in Cleveland. Rockefeller owned a lot of land, and they were looking for stone workers and masons, so many of them came over from Italy.

My father's family came from Ucria, a small mountain town outside Mount Etna. My mother's family is from the Palermo area but also Taormina and Termini Imerese.

 

After years of hard work on construction sites and supplying building materials, her family was sound enough to purchase land.

 

We grew up adjacent to Cyrus Eaton and his vast ranch just south of Cleveland. There was a natural lake surrounded by farmland. Most of the houses around the lake were owned by family and friends.

 

By the time I was born in '62, there were 10 family homes. So I grew up with my aunt and uncle across the street, my cousins down the street, my grandparents, another aunt and uncle.

 

It was very unique. I didn't know that other people didn't live this way. My father and the family grew their own vegetables, cooked sauce on Sundays, and made meatballs and Milanese. Everything flew back and forth between houses; there was an open-door policy. There was mandolin playing, opera, and singing—kind of amazing.

 

How did that environment shape your passion for garden design?

I am a very linear thinker, which might be unusual for a designer or creative. Early on, I understood patterns in the vegetable gardens in neat rows, how they intersected, and how plants were planted together to help each other thrive; for instance, you always grow tomatoes with basil. My father would say, "Lara, think about what you put in the sauce and how you cook. That's how you grow your vegetables."

 

I was an early student, and my dad was really the gardener more than my mother. The way my family cultivated the land, nothing went to waste. We never bought mulch; leaves became compost that fed the garden.

 

Cleveland's a rough environment—not ideal for growing anything. Winters are long, and there is practically no sunlight from November to April. But as soon as the growing season started, my father made the best of it.

 

I learned under harsh conditions how to grow things. It just was second nature to me. I remember my father struggling over a fig tree somebody brought from Sicily. He wanted that tree to live. I watched him put it in special conditions and protect it in the garden, netting it and heavily packing soil around it.

 

I had no formal education in garden design. Everything I knew when I started my business, I learned from my family.  

 

 

How did you get started?

To be a garden designer, you have to be a gardener. And I'm sure many would disagree with me. But if you don't understand a garden, I can't even begin to think of how you'd really design one practically. So I did.

 

I started a garden when I was married and had children. My mother passed away when I was pregnant with my youngest. So I went to her garden, took her roses out, and brought them to D.C., where I raised my children and started my own garden from scratch with beautiful fertile soil and long growing periods. It was nirvana for me compared to the growing conditions where I grew up. 

I learned on that three-quarters-acre piece of land. It was my laboratory, and it's how I informed my aesthetic.  

 

Tell us more about that aesthetic.

It nods to Renaissance and French gardens; Italian gardens tend to be minimal. As much as I love a proper English garden, it's too messy for me. It's hard for me to embrace it. I can design areas of the garden that are wild, but they have to be judiciously arranged.

And lighting is everything. Everything. If you don't understand the light of a garden or how the piece of land you're working on works in the garden, you're really sunk.

 

I always spend a night or two in the house of the garden I designed before I start designing it so I can understand light. It's one thing to say, "South-facing, you have a sunset," or whatever the situation would be. But it's something else entirely to experience the light from inside the house. For me, that informs the design on the outside. I'm not going to block windows; vistas and axes are very important, and it's important that you appreciate them from inside the house.

 

In the garden, I want to play on shadows as much as possible. If it's a south-facing garden, I'm going to create space between the formal entry to the house so I can cast long shadows in the winter when not much is in bloom between the house and the first set of trees to establish the infrastructure of the garden.

 

 

Can you share a memorable project and what made it special?

It will forever be an estate called the Reach. It was the first really large landscape where someone just said, "Lara, do what you think you need to do." And the owner is very kind, intelligent, and artistic, with a clean aesthetic.  All of his homes are spectacular.

 

Somehow, he recognized something in my work that appealed to him. He sat in one of my gardens and asked me to design his. And that leap of faith in me, that free reign, unlocked my real potential.

 

I spent six months studying before I prepared a concept design for him. If he had been more hands-on—because I respect him and his aesthetic—I would have stayed more in a box and presented him with things I thought he wanted. But because he gave it to me, it's purely my vision.

 

I once told somebody, "It'd be like if you hired a painter and said, 'Paint me this painting, but these are the colors you have to use. These are the shapes you have to use. This is how big it's going to be.' And then you say, 'I want this. I don't want that. Take that out. Oh no, I don't like this. No, I like more of that, more of these blues and purples.' Well, then, you've no longer hired an artist. And he recognized that.

 

The garden breathes; it's very peaceful. It is very French in its geometrics and very Italian in the height and drama yet minimalist, as is the house, which Hugh Newell Jacobsen designed. It's on a tributary to the Chesapeake Bay on one side and agricultural fields on the other.

 

I stayed in this house for about a week before I started designing, And I really got to understand the light and how it worked. It played off the house windows, which are set very low.

 

I also got to understand what the garden needed. There was a row of old holly trees, about 20 years old, and a row of Bartlett pear trees, about 20 years old, in the front and on the side of the house. And I took everything out, drove down to the end of the long driveway, maybe three-quarters of a mile, and got sick. I was like, "Wait, what did I just do? I just robbed the land." It had trees on the waterside but nothing in the front. But it allowed me to start fresh. 

 

What are some common challenges, and how do you overcome them?

For a long time, I thought I could beat Mother Nature. I thought I could manipulate her and do what I wanted her to do. That was a big learning curve for me.

 

There's a native flower, a type of verbena, that I really love to use in California. And we look at these wildfires; a lot of that comes from invasive non-native plants. I've always been a stickler for using what's local. I don't try to shove a Mediterranean plant in a wet environment.

 

I kept putting the verbena in the ground because it's supposed to work, but it doesn't want to because it doesn't like the coastal fog and gets mildew, which infects everything else. I think I invested $20,000 in this plant for a client who agreed, and it just didn't work.

 

There are so many challenges. Another is moving water. Moving water is so important. If you don't understand how water can affect a garden, you're not doing a good job because it is just as dangerous, if not more dangerous, than fire.   

 

 

What advice would you give to someone just starting in design?

Be a gardener. If garden design is what you want to do, you have to be a gardener first. You have to work the land, understand the land, and understand plants before you can even begin to design.

 

A garden designer needs to implement all the back of the house. Nobody likes to talk about things like drainage, irrigation, conduits for lighting, permitting, and topography. So much goes into the actual infrastructure before you even stick a shovel in the ground.

 

So, if you're not a gardener and don't want to be a gardener, be an architect. Do the mechanics and understand the engineering of walls and steps, how to move water, and how to build water features. But if you want to be a garden designer, if you really want to design the garden itself, be a gardener.

 

What is your overarching goal with each project?

To make people happy when they come home. I get such a charge out of people calling me four or five years later and saying, "I'm so happy to come home every day." Just seeing how it affects a family… That's my goal: making it work for them. 

 

 

 

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Inspired by her grandmother Palmira Giglia, acclaimed "Vaccaro" turtlenecks designer and owner of Settebello boutique in Boston, Giuliana Leila Raggiani launched her design career in 2013 after studying at Parsons School of Design and completing the knitwear program at Central Saint Martins in London. 

She started with an intimate collection of four chunky jacquard oversized sweaters made on her knitting machine. The collection evolved following Giglia's passing in 2014 when Giuliana chose to reproduce her grandmother's iconic turtleneck.

 

"Little did I know it would become the missing piece to the puzzle of giu giu," Giuliana says, reflecting on her own brand's launch. 

Called "NONNA," this homage to the woman who taught her about fabrics was also a gift to Giglia's original customers, who began contacting Giuliana to share their personal memories tied to the coveted collection.

 

Encouraged, Giuliana expanded the "NONNA" collection into different silhouettes, following her grandmother's knitting technique.

 

Today, "NONNA" sits at the heart of giu giu. Giuliana divides her time between France and Tokyo, where she opened GIU GIU House. This seasonal experience/community space serves as a gallery, shop, café, and portal to a beloved brand.  

Giuliana took time to discuss her background and how her grandmother inspired her. She revealed her design philosophy, reflected on memorable collections and experiences, and shared advice for other designers. 

 

 

What is your connection to Sicily?

My mother is from Sicily, and I am a first-generation Sicilian born in Boston, Massachusetts. A lot of my family still live in a small village called Aragona, in Agrigento. It's a beautiful historic region by the sea, and I'd love to find time to visit more frequently. 

 

Tell us about your grandmother Palmira Giglia, and how she inspired you.

My nonna, Palmira Giglia, was a true queen. She was always my favorite person to spend time with, and truly understood me to my core. She had hands of magic—everything she touched somehow became a work of art, whether it was a dress she was sewing, her garden, or a dessert she was making. She was fabulous, had impeccable taste, taught me about fabrics and cooking, and had an undying passion for the arts in all forms. 

There was something truly divine about her essence. She opened a boutique in Boston with my godfather, Gino, from the 1960s to the early 90s, called Settebello, after they emigrated from Italy. Together, they created a cult line of knitwear, specifically, the "Vaccaro" turtleneck, an iconic shrunken ribbed knit available in a rainbow palette of hues. 

 

giu giu "Nonna" turtleneck in "Cobweb"

How do you blend your heritage into your designs?

It is naturally embedded in every stitch of the knitting, as my designs are rooted in my nonna's work and passed down to me.  I feel it's my duty to honor the lineage of something that served so many people with positive memories. It is an ancestral timeline and my practice in the "art of preservation." 

 

How does the giu giu design philosophy and aesthetic reflect your personal experiences and influences?

The philosophy of Guu Giu is to feel comfortable in your skin, like you're wearing nothing and everything at the same time, because it feels so good on your physical body. 

I think back to my personal experiences where I felt best in my clothing and try to replicate that feeling through my designs. I believe your clothing should work with your body and not against it. Garments that excite the senses more than just visually. Touch. Mixing textures through fiber and stitch. An invitation to explore and play—to roll, tie, twist, reverse, etc. To engage your inner child.

 

One of the main reasons I love knitwear comes from my personal experience as a dancer.  I always loved that dance-wear allowed movement and had this casual and carefree ability to adjust as needed.  It's an inspiration that stays constant in my work.

 

 

giu giu "Nonna" turtleneck in "Baleine"

 

Tell us about some memorable collaborations.

Ah, it's tough to choose, as each collection has been so special and serves as a little time capsule for me. I'd have to say, in 2020, during the first wave of COVID, my factory shut down for months. I didn't have any physical samples to shoot, so I got together with some friends in L.A., and we created a very extra-terrestrial virtual reality film for giu giu using a green screen. It was such a different perspective and way of showing the giu giu world and a fun way to solve a seemingly huge setback. 

 

giu giu "Nonna" blazer and button-down in "Mud"

What has been the most rewarding part of your journey?

After 11 years of growing this baby, I think finally being able to see the fruits of my labor through the community I've built has been the most rewarding. Hearing directly from customers and the giu giu family about how this clothing has touched, healed, and created memories of love for others brings me so much joy. It's the small part I can do in the grand spectrum of helping change the world in an effort to make it a more beautiful and harmonious place. 

 

giu giu "Nonna" turtleneck in "Kaki"

What advice would you give to aspiring fashion designers?

Listen to your intuition. The right path does not always look the same for everyone. It may not make sense on paper or when you do the math. People may call you crazy.  But you always feel the answer in your gut. Sometimes, you have to move against the grain of what's "normal" or what has worked for others. Yet, in the end, I promise you will never regret it. 

 

 
"Sometimes, you have to move against the grain of what's 'normal'..."

 

 

 

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You could say that design runs in Sicilian-born milliner Roberta Cucuzza's blood. The bespoke hatmaker's great-grandmother, Maria Bellini, a Coco Chanel and Elsa Schiaparelli contemporary, opened a fashion atelier in Catania in the 1920s and passed her passion onto her family. 

Roberta has fond memories of sewing with her grandmother, which serve as touchstones on her career path. The London-based designer takes hat commissions as she works toward an HNC in Textiles/Millinery at Morley College in Chelsea, London, the only professional millinery course available in the UK.

 

I recently had the opportunity to connect with Roberta, who shared more about her background and inspiration, her journey to her first commission in 2019, her award-winning hat, and her plans for the future.

 

Tell us about your background and what led you to millinery.

My fashion heritage goes about three generations back to my great-grandmother. She had a good life and a really nice marriage. For those days in 1920s Sicily, she was very independent and got a lot of support from her husband to pursue her goal of running a fashion business. Unfortunately, her husband passed away when he was 50 when she was still relatively young, so she found herself raising six kids on her own through her work as a tailor. There's a story of survival that goes with her craft. 

She was a tailor and a fashion designer who attended a professional school in Italy. When she was still with my great-grandfather, they traveled to Paris together, embarking on a 2,000-kilometer journey by steam train! In those days, it wasn't an easy trip. They went there in the twenties when Schiaparelli and Chanel would probably have been showing their work. She came back excited and brought lots of nice materials back with her. Her business grew because of this trip and gradually attracted clients from the Sicilian nobility. Her business really thrived. She had a 17-room atelier in central Catania.

She was really infectious in terms of passing on her passion to her daughters. I spent my childhood sewing things with my grandmother Isabella, which is where everything started for me. However, it wasn't until many years later that I encountered millinery. My great-grandmother would not have made hats because they had what we call a modista, a milliner who would do that. But my dad has a big passion for hats, and the two things eventually came together.

 

My first encounter with hats was in 2015 when I attended a workshop in London. London is more open-minded when it comes to hats, while Italy is quite traditional. I just fell in love with millinery at first sight.

 

What memories do you have of sewing with your grandmother?

We celebrate Carnevale in Italy, and the family made all of my Carnevale dresses from scratch. My grandmother and aunt made this princess dress from a beautifully embroidered taffeta material that I think came from Morocco. I remember so clearly sitting on a chair for them to do the hem. They even made a matching headband to go with the dress.

 

Lots of love came with this craft. My early memories involve spending time with my loved ones, holding a needle, and making little purses or projects that my grandmother would give me.

 

The one thing I'm a bit upset with my grandmother about is that she never wanted to teach me how to use the sewing machine because she was scared I would hurt my fingers. It's something I had to pick up later on. Only recently have I overcome that deep fear. It would have saved me so much time, though, if I had learned it from her!

In millinery, you do a lot of hand sewing, and it came naturally to me to focus more on invisible stitching and all the things you do by hand. Eventually I wanted to be able to also create pattern-based hats that involve using a sewing machine. I mastered this in college only last year!

A couple of things really stayed with me. One is the quality of the materials my family was able to find in Italy to make clothes, and the other is their attention to detail. There's an emotion that goes into what you're making; it's not just a piece of fabric that goes through a machine.  

 

Describe your journey from training to your first commission.

After some years of playing around just for pleasure, I started training professionally in 2019 through workshops and courses available in London. Then, I was approached by a burlesque performer called Olive TuPartie in New York via Instagram. She trusted me one hundred percent. It was one of those things that just happened, and I couldn't believe it because she was (and still is) the dream customer.

 

Because she's called Olive, she asked me to make something that resembled an olive with a skewer and a pimento. We collaborated online, and it was interesting that I could do my first commission across the ocean, basically without doing a fitting. But I spend a lot of time really understanding the customer and paying attention, putting some thought into what I'm doing at the same time.

 

My training was not formal, but I attended workshops with renowned milliners. In London, they organized London Hat Week; they invited milliners from abroad to come and teach, and I was lucky to study with people all the way from Australia and Israel. So, the two things coincided.

 

Tell us about your award-winning Riccio hat, its inspiration, and how you created it.

This project was very close to my heart for many reasons. My mom passed away a couple of years ago, and I didn't realize until later how much of that was part of this project.

 

It all came about when our teacher took us to a cemetery just to get some inspiration. There were corbezzolo trees there. I picked up this berry, and I was just attracted by the idea of something that's spiky outside with something precious inside. So, I started developing some mockups and prototypes and let this project take its course.

 

The sea urchin, riccio in Italian, uses this survival strategy. At the time, I felt a bit like a riccio because I was trying to protect myself and be strong outside. 

The other key element of this design is crochet. My mom taught me to crochet when I was little. So when I made the structure of the sea urchin with millinery wire, I then covered it with crocheted felt, a technique I developed entirely on my own. To be honest, I didn't even know it was possible until I did this.

 

So lots of things came together: the fact that there's this kind of relationship that goes back to when I was a child. When I was designing it, it wasn't clear to me. I was just going with the design process and going from one thing to another. But when it came to writing my artist statement at the end, I realized all these elements from my Sicilian heritage were there. It's probably the project that is closest to my heart right now.

 

How do you balance traditional techniques with modern design elements in your work?

I think traditional techniques are there to help you. You have to know the rules to be able to break them. First, you have to learn the craft properly, and then you can go beyond and understand how you can innovate.

 

In a way, I am quite traditional. I am very curious about traditions, heritage, and old crafts. That's why crochet is one of the techniques that I'm trying to develop at the moment. I'm thinking of starting to crochet with materials that may not be so traditional—anything from metal and leather to foraged pieces of grass. I am still in that process, but a crucial part of my design language is the juxtaposition of contrasting elements: old and new, feminine and masculine, hard and soft. For example, I recently developed a feminine version of the Sicilian flat cap, made with luxurious materials that contrast with its traditional association with men in the Sicilian countryside. 

 

What are your future plans?

This year, my focus is on finishing my last year in college, when we will present our final collection. I'm hoping that this will be my debut as a millinery designer-maker. I've already been gaining work experience with other milliners, and I intend to continue working freelance, producing a mixture of my own designs and creations for other people.

 

More recently, I've also been doing some work in theatrical millinery, a type of work that really appeals to me because it's more about solving a problem. Although I do like fashion and I like to create my own designs, I see myself l always doing a mixture of fashion and work for the stage.

 

I think it goes back to my first commission for Olive. That commission will probably be the one that will always stay with me; it sort of set the tone for me from the start. More recently, I have realized that what I like to do is help people realize their creative vision on and off the stage.

 

What do you hope people will take away from your work?

A smile? Happiness. That's the thing that hats do for people. You can go anywhere; if you wear a hat, you connect with others. People will probably ask about it. They'll be intrigued by your personality. What my hats do is create connections and generate happy memories. That's happened so many times.

 

Once, a lady came to me and said she had been told she couldn't wear hats because of her face. I said, "It's just like a haircut. You've just got to find the right one for you." Then she started wearing this hat that we looked at together, and a few days later, she sent me a thank-you card for helping her feel happy and confident in her own skin. That's what I'd like people to take away.

You can follow Roberta on Instagram @robertacucuzzamillinery and see her work on her website at robertacucuzza.com. Feel free to sign up to her mailing list to receive subscriber-only updates.

 

 

Robert Cucuzza's Riccio hat. Photo by Fenica Chambel

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Oriana Lamarca creates vibrant jewelry, channeling over 100 hues and dozens of motifs inspired by her Sicilian heritage. Her brands, Oriana Lamarca Designs and My Sicilian Love Affair, have together served as a colorful beacon that kept her going even through the lowest points in her health and personal life. 

"My hashtag is #addictedtoarmcandy, and I love to say that my addiction to designing these bracelets and this passion that I have for what I do truly did save my life," says Oriana. "And through it all, I've just had so many amazing experiences."

Oriana shared with me her deep connection with her Sicilian roots and how that shapes her designs, how she got started, her passion for color, how she balances the trendy and the timeless, and more. 

What is your connection to Sicily?

My parents were both born and raised in Sicily. They both came over as teenagers. My mom's from Castellammare del Golfo; we still have the house she was born and raised in, and we recently did some renovations. And so she and I went back and forth.

My dad is from Agrigento, so a little farther south. My grandparents, up until pre-COVID lived there from September to June. So, growing up, I always would spend a couple weeks at a time staying with them and spending time in Sicily. I have beautiful memories of that and continuing the Sicilian traditions through everything we do, including holidays and food.

 

What role does your Sicilian heritage play in your designs?

Pretty much everything revolves around that. I have another website dedicated to my love for Sicily, which is called MySicilianLoveAffair.com. And there's also an Instagram attached to it. My Sicilian heritage is the basis of everything I do and design and my storytelling.

 

I was actually married. I got married in Taormina, Sicily, in 2014, when social media started to kick off. So people saw that I was going back so often, and I found myself planning trips for people every summer. And I said to myself, "I need a reference point to be able to send these people so I don't have to just keep repeating myself." So that's kind of how the idea for My Sicilian Love Affair was born, as a reference point for everything from where to go, where to stay, what to eat, traditions, travel, and fashion.

 

That ties into Oriana Lamarca Designs. I'm designing my collections and storytelling and translating my life experiences, values, and roots, all through my designs and creations. I have a My Sicilian Love Affair collection in which I incorporate pieces of ceramics handmade in Sicily. The ceramics I've selected highlight Sicilian culture, whether it's the cassata cake, a traditional Sicilian dessert, or the carretto Siciliano, the wheel of the cart. I have teste di moro, of which there's a male and a female. It's a traditional Sicilian legend. And so I've utilized these ceramics to highlight little bits and pieces of our culture and all the stories that go along with it. 

 

How did you start Oriana Lamarca Designs?

My parents have a tile and stone design center, so I grew up working for them. I went to college, graduated, and decided to stay and help them. I was designing kitchens and bathrooms and working with stones, but I always loved fashion a little bit more. My grandmother was a seamstress for Ralph Lauren and Halston, so it kind of runs in my veins.

I would go to work for my parents during the day, and at night, I would go shopping. I came across these beaded bracelets and thought, "I'm not going to spend a hundred dollars on one. I can make it for myself." So, I started ordering beads. I taught myself how to tie the knot.

 

I started selling to friends and family from 2013 to 2014. I took a break because I had planned a wedding overseas. Once I got back, six months after I was married, I was diagnosed with Bell's Palsy. And so I was home for three months. During that time, I built my website and solidified the concept for the collections and the idea for the brand. Once I got better and started going out again, I did a lot of pop-up shops, like home shopping parties.

 

The website was picking up a little traction. In January 2016, I decided to leave work for my parents to pursue this full-time job for about three years. It was kind of still just a thing that was keeping me busy. I was growing this brand, which I love, but at the same time, I was a wife, and I thought I'd be starting a family. And so it wasn't as serious, I'll say, as it is now.

In 2019, I went through a divorce right before COVID. Again, at this low point in my life, my business gave me the strength and focus to pull through, and I dedicated every second of my life to making it work and bringing it to where it is today.

Color plays a huge role in your work. Share with us the story behind the various shades.

I love color. Actually, that stems from both my mother and working at the tile store, where my mother is one to have always really worn a lot of black and just beige and neutral colors, as well as designing kitchens and bathrooms. Everybody wanted just neutral colors, and I just loved color.

Color plays a huge role in our everyday life, mood, confidence, and so much else. With these bracelets, the idea was to effortlessly add color to your outfit, whether you're wearing all black but want to add a pop of color without it being too much or you don't want to wear a strong-colored top. You can add a little bit of color with your accessories—not just the bracelets, but the earrings, the necklaces, and the bags to complement the entire look.

 

At this point, I have over a hundred different colored gemstones, which allow people to mix and match and create their own "arm party," as I like to call it, to compliment your outfit or add color. I like to wear a lot of color, so I will often compliment all the colors I'm wearing and kind of wrap that all up in one little storyboard in my arm party. Or if I'm wearing just my classic Sicilian black lace go-to type of outfit, I'll accessorize with colorful bracelets to give it a pop of color and fun.

 

When I started with six or seven signature collections, each of which was created during the time that I was sick, my brain organized the colors together into six collections inspired by different destinations I had traveled to.

 

So I live in New York, which has more of an edgier vibe with metallics, white, and black. Everybody wears black in New York. The Miami collection has a lot of brighter colors, like the neons—the lime green and the bright magenta pink, which reminds me of Miami Vice. The Greek collection was inspired by my honeymoon. I had been to Greece, and there were a lot of white houses, blue roofs, and blue water in the Mediterranean. So that was what inspired that collection. But basically, I organized the colors—over a hundred of them—through these signature collections, through the culture of that destination I had been to.

 

How do you source the materials and stones for your collections?

I do a lot of research online. I order from all over the world. The ceramics are made in Sicily. A lot of the beads come from India, some from Greece. My suppliers are based in the U.S., but it depends on where the stones originate. But that's as far as the beads.

 

As far as the other products, a lot of the collection I'm now moving more toward is made in Italy. We just got a new collection called the Gaia bag, a beautiful leather bag made in Tuscany. A lot of our other bags are made in Florence or Italy. Also, the beaded bags are made in India. I pay attention to where I'm sourcing my material and make sure I give my client a product that is not only affordable but quality as well. We make our bracelets in-house in my studio in New Jersey.

How do you balance creating trendy pieces with maintaining a timeless appeal?

A lot of the collections that I've developed, aside from the signature collections, are collections that I like to tell a story through to represent something. These trendier pieces may have a little more of a timeline to them, but I like to incorporate the classic pieces that I use throughout the signature collections, even when designing the trendier collections. Because color is so important in what I do, even when sourcing the charms, I want people to be able to mix and match the bracelets without any reservations. That's why the focus of the bracelet is on the color. So the charm doesn't hinder whether you can pair it with another bracelet or not. It's really just the color of the stone that will stand out.

 

But then I do have another collection called the Expressions Collection, in which there are over a hundred charms that are more specific to a theme or a way to express yourself with something you like. For example, I have a lipstick charm if you're in the beauty industry. Or if you're a hairdresser, I have a pair of scissors charm. So that's where I focus more on the charms. But as far as the other collections I design are concerned, I always try to portray style, class, and elegance through whatever I'm designing.

 

What are your future plans?

One of them, which is coming into fruition in 2025, is focusing more on bridging the gap between Sicily and New York and some travel planning, which I started through my other website, My Sicilian Love Affair, and sourcing products that are not just made in Italy, but also more specifically in Sicily. Because Sicily is such a rich island of culture, we have so many stories to tell and beautiful products to choose from. One product that was just brought to my attention is from a woman who designed a collection of bags using prickly pear leaves, which is really innovative and different. And so I want to bring all of these unique pieces Sicily has to offer here stateside. Along with the bracelets and the jewelry, it is a lifestyle brand, so I'm incorporating more food, travel, and fashion altogether. 

 

What do you hope your customers take away?

I want my customers to feel fashionable, confident, part of a community, and just good when they wear these bracelets and know that they are wearing a bracelet that has a purpose, a bracelet that represents them, and a bracelet that, for the woman who doesn't feel like getting decked out head to toe daily, she can throw this on and feel like she has a fashionable look effortlessly.

I have a collection called Armcandy for a Cause. It's the philanthropic side of what I do, which I started about 10 years ago. I design a bracelet dedicated to a certain organization. I design the color and the charm to represent that organization, and then I donate the proceeds back to that organization. So, through all of it, we're also making a difference together and helping our community. 

 

 

 

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