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How Edge of the Meadow Began

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How Edge of the Meadow Began

How Edge of the Meadow Began

I've loved print and pattern for as long as I can remember. It was my favourite subject at school, long before it was ever a career. That love took me to a fashion and textiles degree at Winchester, back when everything was hand-painted and screen-printed by hand. After graduating, I freelanced for print agencies, producing vibrant artwork for the youth apparel market. Bold, colourful work, made for a fast-moving industry.


Then, in 2014, everything changed direction. We made the decision to leave London and move to the countryside, choosing a slower pace of life for our young family. More space, more fresh air, and more time to actually be present while raising our children.

Where the walks came in

It was on those early countryside walks with our first dog that I started noticing just how beautiful the landscape around us really was. I'd stop mid-walk, taken aback by something as simple as a hedgerow or a patch of wildflowers. With two small children in tow, though, there was no time to sit and sketch the way I had at university. So I picked up a camera instead. Photography has always been a second passion alongside print, and for a few years, that's really all I did: gathered photos, walk after walk, with no clear plan for what they'd become.

Learning to go digital, from scratch

Eventually, I wanted to turn that growing collection of photographs into something. But the industry had moved on since my degree. Digital textile printing was fast replacing hand-painted screen printing, and I needed to learn an entirely new way of working. So I bought a laptop, taught myself Photoshop through a few online courses, and started again, essentially from zero.

What struck me most was the accuracy. I was genuinely surprised at how closely the colours and prints matched what I'd designed on screen. It also meant I could produce in small batches, using far fewer resources than traditional methods. At the time, there were only a handful of digital textile printers in the UK. It's been good to watch that change: the industry has grown considerably over the last ten years or so.

Silk scarves first, then the pandemic pivot

The first things I ever printed weren't kitchen textiles at all. They were silk scarves, launched at my first pop-up fair. People responded to something specific: original, vibrant prints they could actually wear or bring into their homes, rather than anything mass-produced or generic. That early response gave me the confidence to build a website and start selling online.

It was during the pandemic that the direction shifted again. The kitchen textiles side of things, something I'd been building quietly alongside everything else, took off, and I never looked back. It made sense. I love to cook, and I'd noticed a real gap for kitchen textiles that were genuinely well made and genuinely original. Vibrant, distinctive prints, rather than the flat, uninspired designs that seemed to dominate the market.

Why small batch, and why it stays personal

Edge of the Meadow still runs on the same principle that got me here in the first place: produce less, produce well, and stay close to how it's made. I work with a UK-based production partner, and I rate that relationship as much as the finished product. Being able to actually talk to the people printing your designs matters more than most people realise, until they've tried it the other way.

I don't hold large amounts of stock either. When a design sells out, a new one takes its place, which keeps the whole collection feeling current rather than static, and means nothing sits around indefinitely. I favour small batch printing because it means less waste, plain and simple.

There's a bigger reason behind all of it, though. I think people like to purchase from the actual designer, the person who made the thing, so they can have a conversation about how it came together. It builds a kind of connection that feels increasingly rare these days. That's part of why pop-up fairs still matter so much to me, even now. They're one of the few places left where that connection still happens in person.

That's the story behind Edge of the Meadow, from a walk with the dog to a kitchen full of prints. I hope you find something here that becomes part of your own everyday.

 

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