I am a tailor and textile artist: I create clothing and accessories that are completely natural and sustainable.
I handcraft my creations using simple, harmonious, and natural elements. I marvel at a natural hemp fabric that enters my studio as a blank canvas, ready to be dyed with earthy tones, and then adorned with the imprint of a Japanese maple leaf or the delicate pattern of cosmos petals. The designs I create emerge from my ideas and my hands: I take care of everything personally, from the tailoring to the sartorial finishes, shaping the fabrics, sewing them, and choosing the details that define each piece.
I am passionate about studying the incredible variety of decorative techniques, feeling the botanical materials in my hands, and giving form to inspiration, which I personalize in an intimate and meaningful way. The production cycle follows the rhythm of nature and the seasons, with a slow and responsible approach. I produce my garments in limited quantities, and each creation is truly one-of-a-kind, irreplicable: I couldn’t recreate it even if I wanted to. I often say that my creations are alive because they are organic: the fabrics, colors, and natural prints remind us that in nature, everything is constantly transforming, whether dramatically or subtly.
By wearing them, you’ll discover the joy of wearing a natural poem that speaks of you.
My production cycle follows the pace of nature and the rhythm of the seasons.
The name Nathueral, which combines natural and hue (shade), reflects the infinite creativity of nature, which inspires me. I could tell you that everything begins with the seeds I plant in my dye garden, but in truth, this story starts even earlier: where do the seeds come from? They are from the plants I’ve used in previous months for my creations, carefully collected and selected; or they are seeds I’ve gathered during my walks in the Ligurian woods or on family trips, perhaps while exploring the botanical gardens of other Italian cities, like the one in Trieste. During the colder months, in January or February, I plant the seeds: some find their home in the soil right away, while others grow slowly in the seedbed, indoors, before being moved to the garden. They will become the first flowers of spring, marking the magical period of abundant dyeing and creativity that lasts until autumn.
Meanwhile, I stock my studio with natural fabrics that I carefully source from Italian producers: people and businesses that share Nathueral’s ethical, responsible, and sustainable vision. I choose natural, precious, fully traceable fabrics made in nearby regions. I favor hemp, organic cotton, linen, bamboo, nettle, soy, tencel-lyocell (a wood-based cellulose fiber), and seacell-algae (an innovative blend of marine algae and cellulose). In addition to these, I also seek out deadstock fabrics (leftover stock from Italian companies) and rare finds that I love to give a second life to, after discovering them in vintage markets or antique shops. I can’t resist the charm of ancient fabrics, the “grandmother’s fabrics,” like linen or hemp, which stand out for their organic and raw texture. I bring them home, knowing that at some point, they’ll begin a new adventure, perhaps becoming a cushion or a bedspread.
The natural fabrics I work with are like blank canvases, taking shape in the sartorial models I handcraft: the clothing features essential, unstructured lines that offer soft, refined, and versatile wearability, timeless in their simplicity. Some of the pieces I create remain in their pure state: this is the écru clothing line that highlights the essence of the materials and the refined simplicity of the designs. Other garments, once sewn, are ready to embrace the artistic process and the decorative techniques I use in the studio, in a continuous experimentation. Even in this phase, nothing is wasted, in a surprising cycle. The designs themselves are crafted to minimize fabric waste, but in my studio, everything is reused: even the smallest scrap, for example, can become the filling for a yoga bolster or a dog bed.
The moment when fabrics meet natural dyes and prints is always thrilling for me, as it’s pure creativity. I use the plants I grow in my garden and dye garden, as well as agricultural and food waste I recover from local businesses, to recycle them.
Starting with a dye bath—the process of natural dyeing that extracts color from plant matter through boiling in water—I can achieve, for example, a beautiful orange, which I use to dye a simple hemp tunic. The same dye can be modified by changing the pH of the dye bath using a natural acidity modifier (like vinegar, lemon, calcium bicarbonate, or iron) to dye a pair of pants in a different shade, perhaps using the Japanese shibori technique, which I’ll then decorate with a leaf and flower design using ecoprint. Or, I can thicken part of the dye liquid to create colored pastes, which I use as “inks” for other decorative techniques like block print and screen printing, or to extract a pigment to store in powder form. At the end of the process, there is no waste: the leftover dye liquid returns to the earth by watering the garden—down to the last drop—while the plants used in the boiling and natural printing become compost. I deeply care about not leaving a footprint in the world we live in, and the ethics of my production choices fully reflect this intention: even the garments themselves will leave no trace, as all my creations are entirely biodegradable.
Upcycling, the act of reusing and giving new life to something with a past, is also part of Nathueral’s philosophy: this happens, for example, with high-quality, finely crafted garments I recover from producers or vintage markets, pieces that may appear damaged or imperfect but can be reborn. I am fascinated by the quality of fabrics and the poetry of details, like the covered buttons on vintage silk blouses: it’s often an imperfection, like a small stain, hole, or tear, that inspires a new creation. This is how unique upcycled and second-hand clothing pieces come to life, which I love to embellish with botanical materials, scraps of naturally dyed fabrics, or boro and sashiko, ancient Japanese embroidery techniques.
My studio is located in a tiny Ligurian village, nestled between the sea and the mountains.
The tailoring studio is a cozy space where I personally handle the design and crafting of sartorial models, especially during the winter months. The dyeing and printing studio, on the other hand, is outdoors, with a breathtaking view of the mountain slopes: at the first signs of spring, I move to this space, where creative experimentation flourishes, surrounded by the dye garden, not far from the woods.
I find inspiration everywhere: in the beauty of nature, powerful and peaceful. During my walks in the woods, when I immerse myself in the vegetation and respectfully gather leaves, flowers, and seeds. In the texture of a fabric: sometimes, just touching it is enough to imagine how gracefully it will drape over the body. I also love to let myself be inspired by the suggestions I encounter during my travels, when I fill my eyes with the diversity of other cultures, colors, and stories.
In the place I call home, I feel at peace: in Liguria, I’ve put down roots, even though part of my origins trace back to Argentina. I was born and raised in Buenos Aires until my teenage years. There’s a word in Spanish that captures something of the Argentine soul I carry within me: disfrutar, which means to enjoy life, savor the moments, live simply (and it’s no coincidence, I believe, that the root “fruto” — fruit — is part of it). Another characteristic of Argentine culture that resonates deeply with me is the art of making do, creating, unmaking, and remaking. I grew up watching my mother and grandmother sew: I learned to do it almost without realizing it, and I discovered this passion years later, when my family moved to Italy, to reconnect with my father’s Calabrian roots.
My early years in Italy taught me to adapt, often with creativity, to everything that had changed: I moved alone to Emilia Romagna, started working, and in the meantime, I studied Business Economics at university, even though I sensed it wasn’t my path. I already had a sewing machine, because I felt the need to transform what I wore: if I didn’t like a garment, I would start unpicking and resewing it. Two exams away from graduation, I felt the urge to pack everything into a backpack and leave: I went to Costa Rica.
Living in Costa Rica, I learned to love nature, which there is pure, untouched, and lush. I remember that in the mornings, when I stepped onto the porch to drink my coffee, I’d find a greedy iguana waiting for its flower, almost as if having breakfast with me. There, I rediscovered that it’s possible to live simply, barefoot. I saw that people are happy with little. I traveled extensively through Central America and realized how much I was drawn to handmade things: I found myself fascinated by local crafts, fabrics adorned with natural dyes, and the earth and flower tones. I began experimenting with my first handmade creations. When I returned to Italy, I packed my backpack again and soon left once more. I wanted to improve my English: I went to England.
London taught me much more than British English; it’s a city that opens your eyes: I saw so much—people, environments, museums, shops, lifestyles. I was fascinated by the people: walking down the street, I noticed how everyone wore what they wanted, how everyone communicated through the clothes they wore, with a freedom that felt fresh and original. I was captivated: I often sat on the steps to watch passersby, almost as if trying to absorb their creativity. On weekends, I’d visit the paradises of second-hand, the London vintage markets, to see, touch, and explore. I continued experimenting with my sewing machine, transforming garments, creatively reusing them. After a year in London, I returned to Italy: it was time to unpack my backpack and settle down, for love. It was meeting (who would later become) my husband that brought me to Liguria.
The passion for sewing and the awareness of wanting to create something of my own grew alongside my family: my first sewing courses, to specialize, were evening classes with the local women. Then I deepened my skills at a professional tailoring school and enrolled in natural dyeing courses with Italian and international artists.
I love outdoor life and practice trail running: you might spot me running through the mountains with a branch in hand.
I’m passionate about traveling, and my backpack is always ready! My favorite souvenirs are seeds, leaves, and flowers to experiment with in my home studio.
I travel around Italy (and beyond) with my family in a 70s van: its name is Pocho, it’s blue, and it’s the keeper of a thousand adventures.
I adore chocolate, coffee, and I drink mate all day long.
The newsletter leads you into Nathueral’s secret garden — a place filled with colour, scent, and quiet poetry. You can picture me writing it the old-fashioned way, by hand, with a cup of coffee (or mate) beside me, guided by the rhythm of the seasons. It’s where I share what’s happening inside my atelier, and where you’ll hear first when a new drop is about to arrive (so you can take a first look as soon as everything goes live). I’ll be waiting for you there.
