In Early Bloom
Announcing the 2025 edition of The Book of Kin, our annual curation of slow fashion brands, exploring collective resilience from the ground up.
As summer ripens and the days stretch long, we’re delighted to share The Book of Kin 2025, a community of designers and makers whose practices speak to a slower, more attuned way of creating. This year’s editorial was photographed in the flourishing grounds of Prinzessinnengärten, an urban community garden in the heart of Berlin. The setting echoes the spirit of the work: rooted in care and alive to the relationships between land, nourishment and clothing. Alongside the images, we’re excited to share a conversation with Paula Firmbach of Prinzessinnengärten on what it means to cultivate resilience in our cities and gardens in times of change.
Created as a source of inspiration, The Book of Kin is our annual curation of designers whose work reflects our values of thoughtful design, ecological awareness and social care. It offers a living example of how fashion can be approached with intention and imagination, inviting us to rethink our relationship with the material and the natural world.
We chose Prinzessinnengärten Kollektiv Berlin not only for its natural beauty, but also for its resonance with the theme of our latest issue: Rise Up Rooted Like Trees. Guidance for Growing Resilience in Challenging Times. As a community garden rooted in collective stewardship and ecological education, it embodies the kind of grounded resilience we believe is essential in navigating the future.
Team Credits
Photography: Philipp Köhler
Words & Styling: Dörte de Jesus
Hair & Makeup: Yuka Sudo
Set Styling: bela mora leal
Photography Assistants: Alister Rhodes, Anya Flar, Valentina Murtazaeva
Talents: Hadassa and Hiyori Higashi @vivamodelsberlin
The images below showcase the selected The Book of Kin brands of our 2025 edition, accompanied by short introductions to each. For further images and more detailed information, we invite you to explore our online brand book.
→ Explore the Online Brand Directory
BUNON | Japan & India
BUNON – meaning “weaving” in Bengali – emerges as a bridge between cultures, carrying forward a slow craft tradition that has endured for more than 1,300 years. Rooted in Kolkata, the silk textiles are entirely handmade, woven from hand-spun yarn derived from wild silkworms sourced in the local forests. Immersed in the local culture, a collaborative team from India and Japan navigates the complexities of production together – a shared conversation, a commitment to honouring the past while creating something meaningful for the future. Every thread tells a story of patience, skill and deep respect for nature.
www.instagram.com/bunon_jp
SUZ | Germany
Reviving a dying craft, SUZ transforms traditional wheat straw braiding into contemporary hats, accessories and objects of timeless beauty. Based in Berlin, she works with sculptural forms, graphic minimalism and meticulous handcraft. Each piece, made slowly in her Kreuzberg workshop, reflects a dedication to longevity and care – hats designed for city streets and country meadows alike, inviting a slower way of living with the things we choose to wear.
www.suzberlin.com, @suz.berlin
BAIUSHKI | Switzerland
BAIUSHKI has been crafting sculptural jewellery locally and sustainably since 2016, working with recycled precious metals and fair trade gemstones produced to ethical standards. In their Basel studio and showroom, creative director Lea Good works intuitively, drawing and shaping by hand, inspired by nature’s perfectly imperfect forms – the soft riverbed worn away by water, the angular rock of the mountain and the curve of driftwood.
www.baiushki.com, @baiushki
MAGATA | Germany
MAGATA creates wearable relics for modern rituals. Rooted in Berlin and shaped by Mediterranean ancestry, the label explores the space between softness and structure, gesture and transformation. Each piece is made to order, cut from high-quality natural fabrics and crafted slowly to carry a story over time. Through fluid, sculptural forms that move with the body, MAGATA honours archetypes that reflect different moods, phases and ways of becoming. The name MAGATA originates from the Italian word ammaliata – wild, enchanted.
www.magata.co, @ateliermagata
KOEN | Switzerland
KOEN – Japanese for “public garden” – reconnects clothing with place and purpose. Based in Switzerland, the brand works with 100 per cent organic, biodegradable materials, sourced close to its production site. Each relaxed, minimalist piece is handmade with care, promoting wellbeing through clear design and high-grade finishing. By returning to local craftsmanship, KOEN offers garments that revitalize communities and celebrate the joy of the unique.
www.koen-organicfashion.com, @koen_organicfashion
LAVIE | Switzerland
Guided by minimalist aesthetics and crafting from certified natural fibres, lavie envisions a regenerative future where textiles enrich our everyday lives, gently and meaningfully. The Swiss home textile brand is rooted in circularity and nature-inspired design – from Cradle to Cradle Certified® Gold bedding to organic towels, homewear and table linens, each piece is made to combine longevity, beauty and ecological responsibility.
www.lavie-home.ch, @lavie_hometextiles
Wol Hide | USA
Wol Hide approaches garment-making as a holistic practice, working with regenerative, minimally dyed natural fibres. Crafted with care in the USA and Peru, each piece reflects softness, simplicity and intention. This season sees the launch of a capsule of sweaters made entirely in the USA – from seed to garment – using mid-gauge cotton yarns in their purest state: unbleached, undyed and resonant in their material presence.
www.wolhide.com, @wolhide
ABAYA | USA
Named after the Nigerian Nupe-language word for “tread softly”, ABAYA was founded on the belief that design holds the power to be redemptive – for the individual, for society and for the Earth. Crafted in Portugal from regenerative leather, cork and natural rubber, each pair is made using only natural materials and ethical processes. Made with truth and beauty as the impetus for creation, ABAYA ascribes all truth and beauty to God.
www.abaya.life
Devlyn van Loon | Canada
Devlyn van Loon’s garments unfold in measured lines. Made in small batches in Canada, each piece reflects mastery: French seams, fine tailoring, and textiles chosen for their quality and longevity. Sourced from mills in Japan, Korea, India and Canada, the designs offer a modern uniform of ease – garments that hold space for comfort, confidence and subtle precision.
www.devlynvanloon.com, @devlynvanloon
Johanna Gauder | Germany
Founded in 2015, Johanna Gauder’s Berlin-based jewellery label has cultivated a purist aesthetic, creating modern yet timeless designs for all genders. Each piece is designed in Berlin and sustainably crafted in Germany from recycled silver or gold. Now celebrating its tenth anniversary, the label has become a recognized voice in the sustainable jewellery industry, known for collections that balance clean lines with playful, elegant elements and for shaping the discourse around conscious resource use.
https://johannagauder.com, @johannagauder
Arctic Summer | Sweden
Arctic Summer, founded in 2020 by two friends sharing a vision of beauty and nature, is a clothing brand based in Uppsala, Sweden. Devoted to creating in collaboration with nature, the brand believes that making new garments can be a process that gives back rather than takes away. This philosophy shapes Arctic Summer’s 11-piece collection, available online and at their atelier in Uppsala.
www.acsr.com, @acsratelier
Natascha von Hirschhausen | Germany
Only favourites worn often can ever be sustainable – a belief at the heart of Berlin-based label Natascha von Hirschhausen. Rooted in zero-waste design, each piece is regionally handmade from certified organic and fair natural materials. With a commitment to transparency and ethics, the brand continues to explore future-oriented innovation while maintaining a clarity of form: minimalist, high-quality garments designed to endure beyond the moment.
www.nataschavonhirschhausen.com, @natascha.von.hirschhausen
Van Tricht | Germany
Rugged yet refined, thesrments explore a quiet dialogue between body and fabric. Heavy materials become soft over time, giving the wearer a sculptural appearance. Created by Hamburg-based designer Hanne Ludwig-van Tricht, the collection is crafted in small editions by artisans in Germany, Belgium and the Netherlands – working outside fashions seasonal rhythm and into something altogether more enduring.
www.vantricht-fashion.com, @vantricht_hamburg
→ Explore the Online Brand Directory
Discover the Full Editorial in Print
The Book of Kin fashion story appears in its full layout in The Lissome No. 5: Rise Up Rooted, Like Trees. If you haven’t yet, you can now order your copy online and explore many more stories in the complete edition.
Urban Gardening for the Common Good
A Conversation with Paula Firmbach of Prinzessinnengärten
For over twelve years, Paula Firmbach has been part of Prinzessinnengärten Kollektiv Berlin, where she coordinates educational programmes, manages community projects and helps steward the garden’s broader activities. Prinzessinnengärten is a pioneering community garden that reimagines urban space as a place for ecological learning, social connection and grassroots transformation. In our conversation, Paula shares insights into their work and reflects on the wider role of community gardens in cultivating resilience in our cities. We’re grateful to the Prinzessinnengärten team for kindly welcoming us into their garden as the location for our The Book of Kin editorial shoot.
Dörte: Paula, could you share with me how the original idea for the Prinzessinnengarten came about and how the project has evolved over the years?
Paula: Sure, the Prinzessinnengärten started in 2009 at Moritzplatz in Berlin Kreuzberg. Around 2018/2019, we gradually moved to our new site at the St. Jacobi cemetery in Neukölln, and the move was finalised in 2019.
The original idea came from Robert and Marco, who started the garden. Robert had previously been travelling in Cuba and came across a community garden, which was partly the inspiration for Berlin. There have been urban gardens in Cuba for a long time. I found that very interesting. In my master’s thesis, I wrote about the tensions between city administrations and urban gardens. Cuba is a good example of how these kinds of resilience-building projects can emerge in places where urban planning and politics fail. It’s very much about empowerment – about reclaiming the city.
That was also Robert’s motivation. He saw young people gardening together, and there was something so special about it. At Moritzplatz, there was this empty plot – it used to be the historic site of the grand Wertheim department store that was demolished at the end of WW2 – and a call went out to clean it up, and lots of people pitched in. The goal was never to supply all of Berlin with healthy food, that would be impossible. It was always about sharing participatory knowledge and making nature tangible.
I remember when I was still an intern, we had a school class visit, and one child said, “This is my first time riding the subway.” It really makes you realise how limited some children’s worlds are – and how few chances they have to experience nature. That’s what motivates me personally: I want people to understand what it means to plant a carrot, how long it takes to grow, and everything that goes into it. Once you understand that, you also realise that some supermarket prices can’t be right – somewhere along the way, either nature or people have been treated unfairly.
Dörte: What was it like in those early days at Moritzplatz? Did the city support you, or was it difficult to get permission?
Paula: I wasn’t there right at the beginning, but I know that the local district was the landlord of the site. As I mentioned, it used to be the Wertheim department store, and after it was torn down, it was just a huge empty lot – classic Berlin, basically a dumping ground for rubble. I’d say the garden played a big role in bringing that “nowhere” space back to life. We received a lot of support, especially from the neighbourhood. Moritzplatz is in Kreuzberg, where many people are open-minded and alternative – so yes, we had a lot of encouragement.
Dörte: I also have fond memories of it. I live nearby and was really sad when the garden left Moritzplatz. Before the garden opened, it had been such a dead space, and suddenly it was full of life, and so romantic. Under the trees, with the little clearings – I always thought it was so beautiful. You touched on it earlier, what do you think is the role of community gardens in building ecological and social resilience in cities?
Paula: It’s hard to generalise, each community garden has its own concept and unique character. There are intercultural gardens, neighbourhood gardens, gardens with a strong educational focus. But generally, I’d say community gardens preserve or revitalise urban green spaces. They bring nature back into the city and create new communal areas. You can think of them as open-air neighbourhood centres. I think it’s important that cities start to recognise the long-term value of gardens like this. The Prinzessinnengärten was at Moritzplatz for many years, and because of that, it was able to have a lasting impact on the neighbourhood.
Gardens are places where people can learn about nature and climate change – and that applies to adults just as much as children. They also offer safe spaces, especially for people who might not feel comfortable elsewhere. Gardens can be very inclusive – when you’re gardening or cooking, you don’t need a shared language or special knowledge. It’s low-threshold and open to everyone. And then, of course, there’s the urban nature itself: at the St. Jacobi cemetery, many animals have made a home – long-eared owls, bats … they find shelter here.
A cute behind-the-scenes moment with our talent Hadassa:
Dörte: What do you offer specifically, in terms of educational formats or open programs, for people who want to get involved?
Paula: It really varies. We offer environmental education workshops, for school groups as well as for adults. There are upcycling workshops, soil workshops, sometimes dance or nature education sessions. A lot of these can be booked through us. We also have a weekly environmental education day for children aged five and up.
Last year, many of these workshops were funded, but unfortunately, that funding has now ended. That means we’ll have to start charging fees this year, though we’re making sure it remains affordable. The weekly children’s day will still be free of charge. And of course, we have open garden days two days a week when anyone can drop by, whether it’s to work in the fields or the garden. That’s completely free. We show people what needs doing that day, and they can just join in.
We also run gardening projects for other spaces, including schools. Last year, through BEK funding, we created two new school gardens. We also organise follow-up visits – we come back, bring seeds, and plant with the students. So it’s not just about setting things up, but staying involved.
Dörte: How many people take part in your activities regularly and how big is your team?
Paula: I think last year we had about 6,000 participants across our different programs: tours, workshops, open garden days, educational offerings and so on. We’ve helped initiate or co-develop over 160 urban gardens and created around 60 school gardens. At our regular open garden days, we usually have eight to ten people – many of them come regularly and organise themselves as a group. There are really committed groups who keep things going through the winter and plan together what to plant the following year. Others come and go.
Our core team currently consists of about 22 employees – but all part-time. The number of hours varies a lot, especially in summer, when we also have seasonal workers for the café.
Dörte: And do you get outside support, volunteers or donations?
Paula: Yes, a lot of people support us, by gardening or through volunteer work. Others donate regularly. That’s a big help, because we mostly finance ourselves. It’s not always easy. Our areas of work are like a patchwork, lots of small project-based funds that we have to piece together.
Public support can be very powerful. Our lease at Moritzplatz was only renewed year by year for a long time. At some point, we started a petition – and that eventually led to a five-year lease and a sense of stability. These are the kinds of “soft skills” that develop over time – when you’ve been doing it a long time and have seen what public support can mean.
Dörte: And what would you say personally enriches your work the most? What have you taken away from all these years?
Paula: What keeps me going is simply that the work is really beautiful. These days, I spend a lot of time in the office and also have my own garden – it’s not like I’m outside all the time. But I have such wonderful colleagues. When I head to work in the morning, it feels like I’m meeting up with friends. That feeling is a huge gift and brings so much joy to the work.
And I think what motivates me in the long term is the bigger picture. Sure, it’s fun to go outside now and then, see where the raised beds will go, or plan things with others. But what really keeps me committed is the awareness of how important urban gardens are – and perhaps how important the Prinzessinnengärten is in particular.
Of course, being a larger project also comes with challenges. Some people think we receive loads of funding or get constant requests, but that’s not the case. We also have to figure out how to make ends meet. Still, I feel that after all these years we’ve established a certain presence. And that really motivates me. I think: okay, we can open doors – for other gardens, for new projects. We can take on sponsorships, show how gardening can work even in a cemetery. We can be a model project. It feels like people are finally taking us seriously. One example is that our district launched the Park Custodians initiative together with us. It shows what the garden can contribute within an administrative structure, or rather, how collaboration with the district can work.
I just hope that this is being seen, and that other districts or cities might start asking: how do they do things in Berlin? What could we apply ourselves? I hope we can lead by example – for other gardens, too. Because I really believe gardens are vital, especially for the cities of the future.
Dörte: If you imagine the future of urban spaces, thirty or fourty years from now, what might a climate-resilient city look like?
Paula: I think it would require a shift in mindset. But if I could dream up a utopian version: why not make Alexanderplatz car-free, move the tram underground and plant a big meadow with trees that provide shade? A place where people can actually relax instead of rushing over concrete, constantly watching out for traffic.
Cities could be so much more climate-resilient if we had more spaces that were simply cooler. You really notice it – for example, on a hot day, when you’re riding through Berlin and suddenly feel a breeze coming off Urbanhafen, it makes such a difference. I often think: why not close more streets to cars? We don’t really need them. I think Gräfestraße is a great example – they removed some parking spaces, and you can instantly feel the improved quality of the space. You want to linger there.
Dörte: And what would it take for ideas like that to really catch on?
Paula: I think many people don’t necessarily want to garden themselves, but they will if they feel supported. If there’s someone there to guide them. I once gave a talk at the university in Lüneburg, and the city had placed raised beds in the town centre. They were disappointed that the beds got trashed. But honestly, just because a raised bed appears doesn’t mean people know what to do with it. Most people don’t have access to that kind of knowledge – and if no one feels responsible, nothing happens. For it to work, there has to be ongoing care.
Dörte: Do you have an example of that?
Paula: Yes, as part of the Edible City project in Hellersdorf, we once asked: what if we planted fruit trees instead of typical street trees? And if you continue to think utopian, then what if a nearby school took care of them? In autumn, there could be two weeks of apple harvesting, and in spring the kids could learn how to prune the trees. Many children don’t get the chance to experience that. Even if they grow up in districts with a lot of green space, that doesn’t automatically mean they have access. The spaces are there, but no one is really taking care of them.
What I can recommend is a position paper called Das gute Leben für alle. Wie Berlin zur Essbaren Stadt wird. (The Good Life for Everyone. How Berlin becomes an Edible City). It’s made up of different chapters: food, social justice, etc., with concrete references, responsibilities, policy recommendations and visions. So it’s not just wishful thinking, but full of practical steps. For example: “By 2030, every Berlin district will have at least ten community gardens on 20% of its public green space.”
Dörte: That sounds so relevant! Where can I find it?
Paula: It’s on our website, where you can download it. It’s only available in German for now, but we’re planning to translate it into English soon. At the moment, the whole project is run on a voluntary basis, so things move a little slower, but we meet regularly.
Dörte: I keep coming back to this question: climate resilience, what could that really look like in the future? Would it make sense if more people became small-scale gardeners again? To empower themselves, to re-learn how to grow vegetables and fruit, to rebuild that connection with nature and cultivation?
My father was born in 1945 and grew up in a small village. His family had a little semi-detached house, and everyone had a small garden. They all provided for themselves to some extent, growing food, keeping chickens. People simply lived with what was there. Then came the post-war economic boom, and suddenly it was all about supermarkets and convenience. But if you think back to the second world war, for instance – those who had gardens were much better off than those who were entirely dependent on the shops. And I think we’ve lost that awareness. Do you see a potential for a return to that kind of self-sufficiency today, especially in urban contexts?
Paula: Absolutely, yes. Even if you don’t have your own garden, you develop a completely different appreciation for things. And it’s also about food sovereignty, self-empowerment and environmental education.
I am part of a project with partners from Thessaloniki, Romania and the Czech Republic. It’s focused on young people between 20 and 35, who were neither working nor in training. We are developing a course on urban gardening using different cultural approaches. The project in Greece had already started, a part of the course is also about self-employment – how to build a small business around gardening. And I thought: yes, that makes total sense! In the Czech Republic, Romania and Greece, there are still many people who grow a lot of their own food – in contrast to Berlin. Some live near cities and grow so much that they have surplus to sell.
Then I was in Chicago last year and visited some community gardens. One of them was run by a Burmese community. They showed us how they largely grow their own food. Some families grow enough to sell the extra at the market. But their van barely makes it to the market – people from their community are already waiting and buying everything up before it even gets unloaded, because they need the vegetables or special spices they cook their traditional dishes with.
Dörte: It’s so interesting to hear how urban gardening can support food autonomy and even small-scale livelihoods elsewhere. But looking at your experience here in Berlin: what are some of the challenges you encounter when trying to bring those ideas into local urban spaces?
Paula: There’s a market in the outskirts, and the market planners reached out to us with support from the district. They asked us to take a look at how a certain square could be redesigned. I don’t know if you know the Britz-Süd station? There’s a huge car park there and an old building – it used to be a cinema, now it’s an Aldi supermarket. Around it, there’s a driving school, an old pub, and a supermarket with Eastern European groceries. It’s a wild mix! The idea was to make the square more ecologically valuable to increase biodiversity.
The market organisers had also asked us because we build mobile raised beds. We brought some over, designed so they can be moved with a pallet jack. The market vendors could then see how they might use them for their weekly markets. The goal was to make the markets more attractive again – they’ve been shrinking, with fewer customers, less appeal.
It was really fun, very hands-on. But honestly, I’m used to people being happy about our work, and suddenly we faced real backlash. This woman came up, visibly upset and said: “You’re taking away our parking spots, and now you’re planting raised beds here too!” At first, I was furious and thought: what kind of nonsense is that? But then I spoke with her. She told me that because of COVID, she hadn’t seen her son for three years, that she’d been feeling really low. And I thought: “Wow.” I nearly went home angry, but that conversation really taught me something. Isn’t that exactly the issue when we talk about liveable cities? Reaching people like her is really hard.
I find that really thought-provoking – the people who complain about raised beds often have a wealth of knowledge. Many have allotments, real skills, but they’re not part of our bubble. I think there’s this image of “those green types with their raised beds, getting district funding while we lose our parking.” And that triggers a lot. You still really feel that East–West divide in Berlin, too. And I genuinely ask myself: how can we bridge that? There’s so much we could learn from each other. It’s a shame that it doesn’t happen more, because what’s pulling apart is actually something much bigger.
This social polarisation – COVID, the rise of the far-right AfD, all of that. But honestly, if we were gardening together, I think we’d get along really well. You’d ask: “How did you grow your tomatoes?” But right now, everything is so charged, and the divide keeps growing, it’s a huge challenge.
When I studied organic agriculture, I thought: I want to change something in Berlin. Sure, I could go live in the countryside and run an organic farm, also great. But I wanted to create change in the cities, because that also has an impact on the farmers in the surrounding areas.
I was really frustrated by that situation. You spend a week building something, hauling soil and then just get shouted at. But experiences like the one at the car park are so important to me. That’s where we can pick things up again.
Many thanks to Paula for this inspiring conversation. To learn more about Prinzessinnengarten, join their garden activities or read the position paper, visit prinzessinnengarten-kollektiv.net, check out the open garden days, or download the German paper, Das gute Leben für alle. Wie Berlin zur Essbaren Stadt wird (PDF).
Thank you for joining us in the garden.
Much love and see you next month,
Dörte and The Lissome team xx