Inside My Small Sewing Atelier – Where Every Costume Begins

People sometimes imagine that a costume atelier is a grand workshop with polished wooden floors, elegant display windows, and a team of assistants quietly sewing away. I always smile when I hear that.

My atelier couldn't be more different.

It isn't a luxury studio. It isn't a large warehouse. It isn't a commercial shop where customers walk in all day. In fact, it's simply my own creative room—a place where sewing, photography, designing, and a healthy dose of imagination all happen under one roof.

Along one wall stands a long workbench with my sewing machines lined up side by side, each one ready for its own specialty. In the middle of the room is a large cutting table where fabrics are measured, patterns are traced, and countless cups of tea have quietly watched projects come to life.

The opposite wall is surprisingly simple: plain white, with two dress forms standing patiently in front of professional studio lights. Within minutes my sewing room transforms into a photography studio. As soon as a costume is finished, I don't have to travel anywhere—I simply turn on the lights, dress the mannequin (or myself), and the photo shoot begins.

Of course, the real stars of the room are the cupboards.

Huge cupboards.

Very, very full cupboards.

Every shelf is packed with fabrics collected over many years. Silk, linen, wool, velvet, cotton... each waiting for the right project. There are drawers overflowing with ribbons, lace, trims, buckles, corset busks, eyelets, zippers, beads, and enough buttons to keep me sewing until the year 3000.

Then there are the boxes.

Boxes stacked on shelves.

Boxes under tables.

Boxes inside cupboards.

Boxes containing handmade accessories, sewing supplies, vintage treasures, carefully labelled orders, and items waiting for their new owners. Finished dresses hang neatly in long wardrobes, protected until they're ready for a photoshoot or a journey to their new home.

Is it perfectly tidy?

Not always.

Let's call it... creative organization.

Someone visiting for the first time might wonder how anything can ever be found.

Yet somehow, I know exactly where everything is.

That tiny antique brass buckle? Third drawer, left side.

A half metre of dark green wool bought five years ago? Top shelf, second cupboard.

The vintage Victorian sleeve pattern I haven't used since last winter? Of course I know where that is.

Perhaps it's a photographic memory.

Perhaps it's simply what happens when your hobby quietly becomes your life's work.

This little room has seen hundreds of projects pass through its doors. Historical gowns, theatrical costumes, fantasy creations, corsets, accessories, commissions, experiments, and plenty of ideas that began with nothing more than a sketch on a piece of paper.

Every finished costume starts here.

Not in a glamorous fashion house.

Not in a factory.

But in a small room filled with fabric, thread, inspiration, and just enough organized chaos to feel like home.

And honestly?

I wouldn't trade it for the biggest workshop in the world.