"Dream." hold a breath

Hand-embroidered "Cẩm Tâm Tú Khẩu". Introductory Chapter

       What we need to preserve in the city is a breath.

Nature,
Humans,
The city,
we often place them on opposite sides.

One side is slow. One side is motion.
One side is things made by hand. One side is a life rhythm that is becoming increasingly fast.
Sometimes, we place ourselves in a position of "having to choose".
But, we truly do not have to choose.
We only need to hold on to a breath, amidst all those movements.
There is no need to seek out a quiet space far away.
A bit of sunlight on the wall. A shirt light enough to forget that you are wearing it. A needle moving slowly over the fabric. That is enough.

"Mơ" (Dream) does not dream of another place.
"Mơ" does not create a garden to escape the city.
"Mơ" does not invite women to leave their current life rhythm. "Mơ" does not seek a slower life.
"Mơ" only asks a simpler question. Can we always breathe within our own breath, even when life moves fast?

A garden that needs no presence

"Mơ" begins on white linen,
a fabric that keeps a light structure but isn't stiff, enough to stand in form, enough to move.
A shirt with a familiar silhouette,
A vest that stands the test of time,
A contemporary and liberal bustier top,
Where beauty doesn't come from adding, but from keeping just enough.
"Mơ"...
A flower embroidered,
A shadow passing by,
A breeze fluttering the sleeve,
A woman going through her day,
going to work, strolling, dating, or simply a weekend morning without a schedule.
"Mơ" offers garments that keep enough space.
The wearer can live with it according to their own breath.

That is enough to have a garden.

Beauty doesn't necessarily need to be stored away. Beauty is what we put on every morning without much thought. But the more we wear it, the more we realize it is Beautiful because it has been carefully considered.

We often think of peace as a place. A home far from the city, a garden, or a seaside. A place without the sound of traffic and work schedules.
But life doesn't always allow us to leave.
And perhaps we don't need to leave either.
A patch of tree shadow on the wall can appear right in the middle of the city.
An embroidery line can remind us of nature without needing to enter a garden.
A slow-crafted shirt reminds us that not everything needs to be done quickly.

On the white linen shirt are a few flowers, a butterfly. Threads embroidered by hand. Not covering the fabric surface. Not trying to paint a full garden. A few needle lines. A bit of color. A white space kept back. To let the wearer's eyes have a place to pause, to leave space for the embroidered lines to breathe.

Mơ >

A garden is the same.
It doesn't need hundreds of flowers blooming everywhere to exist.
Sometimes, a tree shadow on the wall is enough. It reminds us that there is still a living world outside.

Time seen by the hands

We live in a world that generates images in seconds. A design in minutes, a trend in days.
But the faster we go, the more we realize the value of things that cannot be done quickly.

Hand embroidery is one of them.
A single stitch cannot be forced faster than the hands.
An artisan cannot bypass the necessary concentration. They must follow the lines, transition thread colors, and maintain the tension of the fabric.

In "Mơ" (Dreams), each line of thread is a unit of time.
Each white space is a pause.
Every slight variation between the stitches is a vivid testament: the piece has passed through human hands.

A familiar perspective: handicraft belongs to the past, while modern fashion belongs to the future.
"Mơ" does not see it that way.
A hand-embroidered linen shirt can step into a contemporary office. It goes with trousers, with denim, appearing in meetings or at bookstores.
Contemporaneity does not lie in being made by machine or by hand. It lies in how the product lives in the present.
It lies in how it lives in the present.
Handicraft does not need to be framed to be valuable.
Handicraft needs to be worn. It needs to be touched. It needs to pass through ordinary days.
And it needs the opportunity to change with its user.

That is also what "Mơ" wants to remind us.
Amidst a life that always pushes us to go faster,
there are still beauties that only appear when we allow ourselves to slow down a little.
To see.
To touch.
To wear.
To live.

Exquisite Heart, Skillful Hands

From the encounter between Hity and Ms. Thu Van, a hand-embroidery artisan from An Phuoc, Ben Tre. And from Ty Trang herself, the founder of Hity. They believe that craftsmanship only continues when it has a new life.

The world is increasingly accustomed to machines and speed. Sitting down, picking up the needle, threading it, and patiently embroidering is a different way of measuring time.
Not by a clock.
But by the hands.

The botanical forms in "Mơ" take inspiration from artist Leo’s garden. But once applied to the fabric, that garden is no longer a complete space.
It is scaled down, restrained, transformed into patches of color and lines of thread.
A tropical palette is softened like light filtering through leaves.
A branch only appears at the corner of a sleeve.
A flower lies amidst the white space.
A curve of a tree trunk is captured by a few stitches.
Nature is suggested, not explicitly depicted in every detail.
That absence creates space for the wearer to step in.

Behind those stitches is the artisan's time.
It is Leo's strokes.
It is a palette translated from the garden onto the fabric.
It is the heart, mind, and spirit of the artisans. They dedicate hours to work that machines cannot replace.

"Mơ" is not about putting old techniques onto a new shirt.
It is a transition.
"Mơ" is not locked in a glass display case.
"Mơ" is not static in a space illustrating tradition.
"Mơ" lives on the body of a woman who is working, meeting people, and traversing today's city.

The time that remains

"Mơ" opens up another way to think about sustainability.
It is not just better materials or better processes.
It is about creating items meaningful enough that we want to keep them.
Many products are created to be quickly replaced. An item made with time carries a different meaning.
We start looking at it longer, touching it longer.
We understand the person who made it and can use it longer.
That is why things made by hand still have a place today.
Not because they belong to the past. But because they remind us of the present:

"Mơ" begins with a white linen shirt, a branch of flowers, a butterfly, a needle, and hands.
Very small things.
But it is precisely those small things that help us realize what is becoming increasingly rare: time.

And amidst all the movements of life,
perhaps what we need to keep
is just

a breath

 Step into "Mơ" >