I am nature: On Clothing as Ceremony

January 2026

In 2016, one decade ago, I sat in ceremony in Costa Rica wearing clothing I had made with my own hands. The fabric held my intention, my prayers, my questions about who I was becoming. I had sewn these pieces believing that what we wear carries spirit, that the act of clothing ourselves could be an act of healing.

I still believe this.

Ten years later, after a PhD studying how we use material culture to build identity under late capitalism, after seven years developing Herderin, I understand something I couldn't articulate then: we have forgotten that clothing is sacred because we have forgotten that we are nature.

When I say I am nature, I don't mean it metaphorically. I mean that the same regenerative systems that grow fiber in soil are the systems that sustain my capacity to think, breathe, create, mother, exist. The earth doesn't support my life from the outside—my life is an expression of earth's living systems. There is no separation.

This understanding changes everything about how I approach design.

The Revolution Starts With Self-Love

Herderin began from a simple, radical premise: what if I put myself first?

Not in a selfish way. In a sacred way. What if, instead of abandoning my body to fit industry standards, I centered my unique embodiment in my work? What if I made clothing that honored my actual form—my height, my proportions, my need for length and movement and ease?

I am 6'0" tall. For most of my life, getting dressed meant choosing between clothes that fit my shoulders but not my arms, my waist but not my legs, my aesthetic but not my body. The message was clear: your body is wrong. Adapt yourself.

But what I learned in that ceremony in Costa Rica, what I've learned through years of somatic practice and embodiment work, what my research on identity and material culture confirmed: the problem isn't our bodies. The problem is a system built on the extraction and abandonment of self.

Fast fashion extracts from the earth and from garment workers. But it also asks consumers to extract from themselves—to ignore what actually fits, what actually feels good, what actually honors our unique forms. We learn to override our own knowing.

Herderin begins from a different premise entirely.

Centering the Unique Body as Revolutionary Practice

When I center my body in my design process, something shifts. I'm no longer trying to make clothing that works "despite" my proportions. I'm making clothing that exists because of them. My body becomes the generator of knowledge, not the problem to solve.

This isn't just about tall women, though we are profoundly underserved. This is about what becomes possible when we stop abandoning ourselves to fit external standards.

If it became normal for everyone to center their unique embodiment in their work—to start from self-love rather than self-criticism, to trust their own knowing, to refuse systems that demand they override their bodies—we would have a revolution in mental health. In how we relate to labor. In how we understand value.

Making clothing that fits my body exactly isn't accommodation. It's modeling a different way of being in the world.

Why the Earth Matters (And It's Not About Trends)

The fashion industry talks about sustainability like it's a checklist: organic cotton, carbon offsets, ethical labor. These things matter. But they miss the deeper truth.

I don't center regenerative agriculture in Herderin because of climate crisis trends or because it's good marketing. I center it because I am the earth and the earth is me. When I honor the soil that grows my fiber, when I work with plant-based dyes that come from living systems, when I choose Climate Beneficial™ materials, I'm honoring the very systems that make my existence possible.

This isn't environmentalism from the outside, looking at "nature" as something separate we need to protect. This is remembering that we are nature. Our bodies are made of the same elements as soil. Our breath is part of the same atmospheric exchange as forests. The water in our cells has moved through rivers, oceans, rain, countless other bodies.

When we clothe ourselves in fiber grown regeneratively—in partnership with living soil, with carbon sequestration, with whole ecosystems—we're participating in that reciprocity. We're saying: I remember. I belong here. My existence is not extraction. It can be regeneration.

What Herderin Actually Is

Herderin is clothing for tall women. But it's also a practice of return.

Return to the body as sacred, not wrong.
Return to the earth as self, not resource.
Return to clothing as ritual, not consumption.
Return to work as expression of love, not abandonment of self.

Every piece I make carries this intention. Not because I bless it up, but because the entire system—from soil to dye to pattern to stitch—is aligned with regeneration rather than extraction.

I've spent seven years on this because it matters. Because the way we clothe ourselves is how we remember or forget our connection to everything. Because if even one person puts on something I made and feels, for the first time in years, that their body is exactly right—that shift ripples out.

This is healing work. It always has been.

The Invitation

I'm not asking you to buy into a brand. I'm inviting you into a different way of being.

A way where your body's uniqueness is honored, not corrected.
A way where clothing connects you to living systems, not dead supply chains.
A way where getting dressed in the morning is an act of self-love, not self-abandonment.

Herderin is open for pre-orders through March 15, 2026. But what I'm really launching is a question:

What becomes possible when we start from loving ourselves exactly as we are?

I think the answer might change everything.

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Alix Vasquez is a sociologist, designer, and the founder of Herderin. She holds a PhD from Brandeis University where she studied identity, embodiment, and material culture. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her son, where she runs trails, makes clothing, and practices meditation and mindfulness.