Out of the Box


Once upon a time there was a crazy tired mom, sewing hats late into the night to support a cause. By hand.

A cause to support community, friendship and solidarity.

As the clock passed midnight she thought of her own mom. How she had made time to sew dresses for her as a kid. The beauty was in the simplicity. They got passed on as hand me downs to sisters, then to local friends and were made to last. 

We forgot that clothing could be made with love. We forgot that clothes last. We forgot that simple is beautiful.

So I bought a sewing machine. 

Yup. I waited 2 days impatiently for this wonder machine to come. And then it did. Bubble wrapped in a box, and ready to go….

And then in a flash the box was undone and it was… broken.

Totally busted.

The bobbin was crushed and rattling, the plastic casing falling off. My expected launch of feverish sewing into the night was thwarted. But not for long.

I got a replacement from a local store. I cut my losses and bought local. Which was smart - as it turns out sewing machines are more complex than smart phones. Plug and play is so 21st century. Threading these little beauties takes a phd in astro physics, and after fruitlessly jamming thread and fabric into a ball of mess I gave in and asked a lovely lady in a sewing store for a life line. 

Turns out the skill of threading and sewing can be learnt. But not on youtube. Tried that and failed.

It takes good old fashioned knowledge and show and tell handed down. 

Armed with a threaded machine, and praying for it to stay that way - did she say the bobbin went like a p or a d??? I went home and whizzed off a couple of lines of stitches feeling on top of the world.

It’s strange how simple pleasures come in very small ways.

In those 2 lines of stitches I felt as though I had stumbled on a new opportunity. An opportunity to delve into the past and rediscover a passion for the true art of making something from nothing.

So I made a dress.

I literally video chatted with my mom and made a dress. From scratch. 

My girls were my first unsuspecting models.  As they tried these first wonky creations and smiled indulgently, my husband came home late and said… “you made that. Wow” 


I started making dresses for my kids because I am obsessed with funky colors since my days creating make up. I struggle to find fab colored cotton clothes for them and am tired of the “made in anywhere”, throw-away craze in clothes stores today. I’m tired of clothes that shout “girls/boys rock” blazoned with slogans that make all kids look the same but do nothing to boost their confidence. I’m tired of throwaway quality, of clothes that strip us of our identity.

Where are my hand me down community of friends?

It’s gone because we took the art and durability out of clothes.

So that’s where the idea began. My story starts here. With a small idea. And a brand called Petit Pixels.

Emma Mufraggi