Why would I wear a silk scarf?

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As a scarf lover, I once asked myself this question.

For a long time, silk felt distant to me. Something expensive. Something meant to be looked at rather than touched.

Out of curiosity — and love for scarves — I decided to get a silk one for myself. I didn’t manage to.
Everything I found felt too shiny, too loud, too declarative.

So I decided to make silk scarves with my own illustrations. And this is how Qeiwa appeared. 

 

I wanted to offer a different idea of what a silk scarf can be.

That it doesn’t have to declare anything. That it can be about touch, about closeness.

It can be intimate. Bodily. Less an accessory, more a habit.

And — oh love — it doesn’t have to be vibrant or contrasting.

 

So why silk?

If I don’t need status, why not cotton or linen? That was the next question.

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Because silk holds every subtle detail of an illustration, allowing the drawing to come alive in a way no other fabric does.
And because it feels good on the skin. It soothes. It rests on you like gentle hands.

Cotton feels honest, linen feels grounded.

Silk feels close.

And once I wrapped myself in it, I didn’t really want anything else.

 

For me, it’s something very simple:

no one has to know that I’m wearing silk.

Knowing it myself — and feeling it — is enough.​​​​​

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