The Early Years of Immortelle: 2022 — Resolve
If 2021 was the year Immortelle learned how to be seen,
2022 was the year she learned how to stand when tested.
This was a year that asked difficult questions — not of the work, but of its keeper.
Early in the year, Immortelle discovered that a sewing house previously entrusted with her designs had reproduced those designs and released them under their own name, including private labeling them for other shops. This was not interpretation, inspiration, or parallel development. These were complete designs, lifted whole, stripped of origin and context.
It was a practice I had not yet learned to anticipate — though I would come to understand, with time, that it would not be the last moment of its kind.
The discovery was deeply discouraging. There was a moment when I nearly stepped away from the work altogether. To see something so carefully authored — patterns refined through repetition, correction, and devotion — taken without acknowledgment nearly ended the story before it could continue.
That original pattern still exists in the world. Though I have since honed it, corrected it, and reshaped it extensively, the knowledge remains. The sting does not vanish simply because the work evolves.
And yet — I did not stop.
Instead of withdrawing, I chose to continue with greater clarity. I made the decision to find a new sewing house, unaware that this search would expand my understanding of design, production, patience, and global collaboration. What followed was a year of recalibration — of frustration, learning, negotiation, and persistence — a process that would eventually lead me far beyond what I had imagined, both creatively and geographically.
2022 did not simplify the work.
It deepened it.
This year also marked the arrival of a new face for Immortelle.
Ai Tenshi Misha — Stacey — became the model of the house, and quickly something more. Through countless shoots, she wore nearly every design created to that point, becoming inseparable from Immortelle’s visual language. She did not merely model the garments — she carried them forward, providing continuity, presence, and embodiment during a year when steadiness mattered deeply.
Jewelry underwent a profound evolution as well.
In 2022, I designed my first fully custom brass components — drawn by hand, translated into CAD, and cast specifically for Immortelle. This did not replace assemblage — a practice I continue and cherish — but expanded the language of the work. It allowed certain designs to move beyond sourcing and into full authorship, embedding intention at every stage of creation.
The collection that emerged that year felt unmistakably elevated. Not because it abandoned what came before, but because it stood beside it — assemblage and custom work existing together, each reinforcing the other. The jewelry created during this period carried a new weight. Every piece was worthy of the IB name, not through novelty, but through deliberation.
The house itself continued to evolve.
A new sign was commissioned — and nearly lost. The first iteration failed to honor the vision, diverging from instruction and intent. Rather than accept compromise, the sign was entrusted to my artist, who rescued it entirely. Through careful listening and repainting, the final sign emerged — unmistakably Immortelle. It now stands as the formal declaration of the space, bearing the authority it was always meant to hold.
The exterior of Immortelle expanded this year as well. A new deck and storage room were added, extending the footprint of the house with purpose rather than excess. Salvaged wrought iron panels — discovered at an antique market, originally taken from a Cincinnati mansion — were incorporated into the design. Each rose and leaf was preserved through literal hand-painting, honoring the ironwork rather than disguising it.
Inside, the final cloak cabinet was built, completing the internal architecture of the shop. With its addition, the house reached a sense of completeness — no longer adapting, but holding.
It was also during this year that I first encountered the building that would one day become Madame Mortelle. At the time, it registered only as a presence — a structure that lingered in memory without explanation. I could not have known then what role it would play later, only that something about it stayed with me.
2022 was not gentle.
But it was clarifying.
The work was tested.
The house endured.
And Immortelle learned that authorship, once claimed, must be defended again and again.
What survived this year did not harden —
it strengthened.
