Independent fashion consultant
A fibre that can clothe us, furnish our homes, and make paper without felling a single tree. I spend my working life explaining why we barely use it.
I'm a fashion consultant. My work is to put industrial hemp back into the conversation — with the people who grow it, the people who design with it, and the people who decide what a collection, an interior or a print run is actually made of.
Hemp belongs alongside the world's finest fibres — not as a niche, not as a statement, but as an ordinary, excellent material people reach for without thinking.
It starts in the field. Hemp asks little of the soil and gives much of it back — but only if someone plants it, and plants it here.
A fibre is only as good as what it's allowed to become. Most of hemp's uses are still waiting for somebody to specify it.
Someone has to keep saying it. In a room full of cotton, polyester and wood pulp, hemp is the option nobody costed.
I don't argue for hemp alone. Its fibres, its standards and its future sit inside a collective that has shaped European textile heritage for generations.
The only European agro-industrial body uniting the entire flax-linen and hemp value chain — from field to finished textile. France, Belgium, and the Netherlands produce 80% of the world's flax fiber. This is the ecosystem hemp belongs to.
It starts in the field
Shirts, denim, workwear, the everyday layers. Hemp softens with every wash instead of wearing out — a garment that gets better over a decade rather than worse in a season.
Upholstery, curtains, bed linen, floor coverings. Hemp brings a weight and a texture that reads as considered — and it survives a room that's actually lived in.
Everything we still cut down trees to print, wrap and package. Hemp comes back in a season; a forest takes decades. And paper made from hemp is .
A footnote worth keeping: the seed of the same plant is one of the few complete plant there is. It isn't my field. But it's hard to ignore that a crop grown for fibre also feeds people.
Hemp requires remarkably little to grow well — less water, no pesticides, and it leaves the ground better than it found it.
The same restraint runs through everything it becomes: take less, make it last longer, and let ordinary things — a shirt, a chair, a sheet of paper — stop costing quite so much.
As it grows, hemp draws down carbon from the air — and its roots and leaves return nutrients to the soil, leaving the earth richer for the next season.
Growers, designers, mills, brands, students, the merely curious — if hemp has a place in what you're making, or you suspect it might, I'd like to hear about it. No brochure, no pitch. Just a reply from me.
The Netherlands