Design from the Earth

We take soil for granted — something that is. But soil isn't static. It’s not lifeless or dirty. 

It is alive, evolving over the millennia as a process, a collaboration between organisms above and below the Earth’s surface. And if we want a circular fashion system, we won’t start with fiber— but with the landscape that provides it.Soil retains water like a sponge, stores carbon, feeds roots, buffers extremes. It sustains every plant, every pasture, every textile. 

I am here to tell you: Soil doesn’t make fiber — it is the foundation of fashion.

The Hidden Life Beneath our Feet

I have stood on black stone in Hawaii, hardened lava from a volcanic eruption. I watched as molten lava poured into the sea and became stone. These beaches aren’t barren - they’re becoming. Stone and sand lay in wait for the first microbes to erupt into a symphony of life and turn it into something extraordinary, soil.

Now, let’s dig deeper. We begin with hard rock, an inanimate mineral deposit. But nothing in nature is still. The forces of nature create dust out of mountains over centuries: frost cracks it, wind fractures it, and rain seeps in. But what we’re talking about here isn’t built, it’s grown.

Water is the essence of life for organisms - bacteria, fungi, algae - nature’s single-celled alchemists. Then come multicellular fungi and lichen. And over life-spans, a living matrix grows. One cup of healthy soil holds more living organisms than there are people living on Earth. Let me say that again. In just one teaspoon — a billion lives.

Fungi send messages. Bacteria trade minerals. Protozoa and nematodes become cornerstones of the food web. Our grasslands — resilient and meters deep in black soil — aren’t fed by plants. They were built by animals. Not just microbes, but megafauna.

Ruminants — Buffalo, aurochs, red deer. Grazing, moving, fertilizing, resting, repeating. Their hooves aerate the ground. Their manure feeds microbes. The migration of great herds of millions of beasts allow plants to recover and grow back with vigor. They didn’t disrupt the ecosystem. They were the ecosystem. They were architects of the richest and most fertile soils our planet has ever known. Animals, in their natural patterns, are soil-makers. Not extractive, but regenerative.

Agriculture Disrupts the Cycle

Fast forward to modern agriculture— fast, linear, and hungry — and it is no longer a cycle.

We till. We monocrop. We spray. We mine. We drain.

Each harvest takes more than it gives. Each new textile begins with a degraded field somewhere in the chain. Globally, we lose nearly 24 billion tons of fertile soil every year. That’s the foundation of our food, our fiber, our future — eroding into dust.

We talk of circular fashion. But how can we have circularity, when the very ground we depend on is dying? Soil erosion. Microbial collapse. Nutrient depletion. It’s like sewing a dress without thread — the structure falls apart at the seams.

A Regenerative Solution: Animals as Partners

Here’s the good news. Nature remembers.

Soil wants to rebuild. But it needs the right partners. And among the most effective? Animals. Now, I know — animals in agriculture can be polarizing. But I’m not talking about factory farms. This isn’t confinement. This isn’t cruelty. This is ecology.

Well-managed rotational grazing — mimicking the migratory herds of the past — is one of the fastest ways to restore soil health. Here’s how it works: Animals graze for a short time. Their trampling stimulates seed-to-soil contact. Their manure feeds microbes and mycorrhizae. Then they move, allowing the land to rest and regrow. This mimics natural migration. And it works.

The result? More biodiversity. Deeper root systems. More soil carbon. More water retention. More resilience. And it’s not theoretical. I’ve walked on land where this is happening — I have heard the return of songbirds. The grass stands taller. The soil is so alive, it smells sweet.

Soil and Style: Fashion of the Earth

Let’s return to you: through your material choices — you are shaping landscapes. Every fiber has a footprint. Every dye, every texture, every seam — begins in a field, a forest, or a pasture. If the soil is degraded, sustainability is an illusion. But if the soil is alive — then every thread becomes a line in a story.

We’ll continue not with a product in a factory, but a process in the field. And here’s the secret: materials born from ecological systems behave differently than materials born from industry. Their chemistry belongs to the earth in a way synthetic industrial products never will.

Let’s talk chemistry. Wool, leather, silk — these are protein-based fibers. They contain amino acids, which means they have nitrogen and reactive side chains. This makes them chemically “sticky” — ideal for bonding with natural dyes. Amino groups in the fiber form covalent bonds with the color molecules in dye plants like indigo, madder, weld.

What does that mean practically? It means that the colors stay without synthetic additives and that we can create vibrancy without toxins or laboratories. Cellulose fibers — cotton, linen, hemp — while beautiful, require metal mordants or chemical binders to hold color. Animal fibers, though? They’re already halfway there. Their molecular structure allows them to collaborate with the dye. This is why ancient textiles — wool tapestries, silk saris, leather-dyed goods — hold their color for centuries.

Stepping Back into the Cycle

Can we teach people to see beauty in material honesty over artificial perfection? Because real wool smells faintly of lanolin. Real leather has scars. These are not flaws, they’re signatures. Designing for regeneration means celebrating texture. Not hiding the story — but revealing it.

Of course, it’s not simple. Working with regenerative materials means limits: Scarcity, Seasonality, Inconsistency, and Expense. But these are not flaws — they are features of living systems. They force us to slow down. To collaborate. To adapt. To make fewer things — but better.

To treat by-products not as waste, but as a story.

To dye not any color at any time — but this color, this season, from this place. In other words: to become part of the system.

Because regeneration isn’t just a method — it’s a mindset. It says: We are not above nature. We are nature. And we can design in ways that heal, feed, return, restore. And your hands — your beautiful, brilliant hands — can help shape a future where we create to connect.

The Future is Grown, not Made

So I invite you to see the material world from the ground up. We don’t need perfection. We need participation. We need many hands, many minds, many feet walking forward. Because the future of fashion isn’t synthetic. It isn’t linear. It’s living. It’s circular. It’s slow. 

And it ends — not in a landfill — but in a field, made just a little bit more alive because of your choice. 

You don’t have to be perfect. But we can ALL be part of a system that works. 

Soil is not just scenery. It is not static. It is not simple. 

It is our legacy — and our future.