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(One dress. Four personalities. Plenty drama.)   By now, you’ve probably realized that SIIM isn’t one tidy likkle ting  you can put on a shelf. I don’t do ordinary. I do everything at once. A chaotic kitchen with Thai curry bubbling next to some Gungo Rice and Peas; a cookbook full of stories or a storybook full of recipes; playlists that bounce between Kingston, Amsterdam, and Detroit; and idle-but-not-so-idle talk of online games that take you on a run through streets of somewhere you’ve never been, but somehow know. People always ask me, “What exactly is SIIM? Seems like you doin’ a lot of very different things?” Here’s the short answer: It’s a lifestyle – my lifestyle. And a family of products (brands) that are rooted in Jamaican culture, built from the threads of my life’s work. Here’s the long answer: pull up a chair, because this one starts in Kingston and takes a few detours. You ever meet a person and think, “Bwoy, this person is a switch-skin ?” Well, I think all of us are a little complex – walking around with a few different people in our heads. And that’s how I design clothes: multiple personas built in. And not the kind you need a therapist for. No man… the kind that make life more interesting. From girlhood, I was fascinated with what fabric could do. Tie it here, wrap it there, drape it one way and it’s a skirt; drape it another and it’s a dress; pull it over one shoulder and suddenly you’re giving Greek goddess. One piece. Endless versions. And then there’s my inside-out obsession. I always wanted to make clothes so well-constructed that you could wear them the “wrong” way and no one could tell. In fact, I’ve run out the house in one of my pieces, sat down in the bank only to discover I had on my frock inside-out. The seams were too neat, the finish too clean — even for me, lol. The front could be the back, the back could be the front… and if you wanted to make it both in one day, mi seh, go right ahead. So fashion was the SIIM brand’s first chapter because it was easiest – the part of a lifestyle you can wear, and that didn’t require a team to execute. But every ensemble, every pattern, every piece has something else underneath it. At first, a structural logic from my architectural background. Then later, a sense of arrival at some imagined event – and now, a cinematic framing inspired by my film work. A lot goes into these designs. Strings Over Buttons I couldn’t make a buttonhole to save my life in the early years, but I could make a mean string. So I leaned into it. Wrap skirts with extra-long ties. Dresses that fit with a single drawstring. The tie became part of the look and  part of the freedom – clothes that adapt to you, instead of the other way around. It also says something about island life. A wrap skirt can go from market to moonlight in minutes. A wrap top can be loosened for a sea breeze or tightened for a hot night on the town. Casual, but calculated. And yes (let’s just admit it), some of my pieces are what people might call “sex-ready.” Pull one string and whoopsie… there it goes. Mind you, I didn’t set out to make clothing for rude business, but let’s be honest: we Jamaicans do have a certain reputation for living life without apology… ahem. Personality Disorder by Design That’s the fun of SIIM pieces though – they have moods. They can be demure and buttoned up (figuratively, since I still prefer strings), or they can turn up the heat. They’re simple on the surface, but with details that let you transform them in ways even I sometimes don’t see coming. That’s the whole vibe: versatile enough for a closet in Kingston or a suitcase in Kingston-upon-Thames. Convertible, so you feel like you own four outfits instead of one. Simple yet somehow complex – like your heediat  best friend (who you love to the ground) and those memorable conversations about nuttin’. Laid-back but effortlessly put-together, whether you’re barefoot or in heels. From Verandah Experiments to Brand DNA When I think back, that verandah Barbie fashion show wasn’t just a play-play ting… it was a prototype for the future. I was already toying with scale, proportion, and transformation. That curiosity became a habit, the habit became a signature, and that signature became SIIM’s DNA. So these design quirks aren’t trends for me. They’ve been there from my first collection to what I’m creating now. Even as SIIM grows into a lifestyle brand, this “multiple personalities” approach stays. It’s what makes me me,  and well… SIIM. Life = Tapestry = Art In 1998, I packed a bag and went to Asia for almost a year. My atlas at the time had Jamaica as the bellybutton of the Caribbean on the hip of the Atlantic. The Asian maps, though, had Asia in the middle — and Jamaica was a likkle, eeny-meeny speck about to drop off the edge of the paper. Blow-wow! Mind. Blown. What a simple likkle ting mek such a profound difference – when you realize you’re really not the centre of anybody else’s world! To Raas! That trip changed the way I saw my country, my place in the world, and myself. I recorded it all in my journal – the details, the disorientation, the moments of epiphany and sudden recognition. Those pages became Gallivant: A Travelogue ,  now part of the SIIM product line. But even that isn’t really just a travel book. Full of recipes, poems, photos, and musings, Gallivant is the blueprint for how the SIIM brand tells stories: deeply personal, culturally specific, but with an open invitation for others to step in and see the world from a different perspective (maybe through my Jamaican eyes). If you’ve met me, you know I can’t keep food out of a conversation for too long. So, SIIMSIMMA (our upcoming scotch bonnet pepper spread) is as much a brand statement as any SIIM garment. It is island heat, complexity, and a little unpredictability – all wrapped up in something deceptively simple. It’s also my answer to the question: “What does Jamaica taste like when it’s bottled for the world?” So food became part of the SIIM brand expression because it’s culture you can taste . Like our language, our cooking style is improvised, ethnically layered, and endlessly adaptable. I like to think of technology as another kind of architecture – building invisible structures that people move through, or that move them. That thinking is behind SIIM’s future expansions into online games and tech experiences: immersive, playful, and infused with Jamaican perspective. My way of saying that dis likkle island can be as digital and forward-thinking as anywhere else. Cho! Every one of these threads is tied to the skills I’ve honed working for other brands. I’ve designed national celebrations, crafted immersive environments for household names, and helped build fictional worlds for feature films. My work has taught me how to translate ideas into lived experiences – how to make people feel part of something bigger. SIIM is simply the point where all those skills, stories, and ambitions braid together into something that belongs to me, and by extension, to you. The beauty of a lifestyle brand is that it doesn’t have to pick one lane. It can walk, run, dance, and skip… sometimes all at once. And if that sounds a little chaotic, well… welcome to Jamaica. Welcome to SIIM.

Model wearing SIIM Quarter Halter in the streets of Kingston. If A Conversation with SIIM: On Being Jamaican, Becoming a Brand, was about the who behind SIIM, then this one is about the how…and the how much. “One Bagga Claat” in Jamaican Patwa literally means a bag of cloth (yes, fabric is where this all started). But it can also mean a whole heap of drama. In my world, it’s both. The cloth part? That’s obvious: SIIM began with fashion. The drama? That’s the abundance of experiences, skills, and stubborn Jamaican determination stitched together to form the SIIM brand. It started on my verandah in Kingston, sewing tiny frocks for Barbie dolls and staging runway shows under the single lightbulb overhead. Tickets torn by hand, chairs lined up, ambition bigger than my yard could hold. Even then it wasn’t just about clothes… it was about creating worlds. From there it was Vogue magazines in my living room. My mother, a true fashion plate, tearing out pages to take to her dressmaker. Summer sewing lessons in Mandeville, and me as a precocious teenager sewing my own school uniform skirts. That ended with a call to the principal’s office because apparently my “business attire” was too business for sixth form… read “tight”… So I made the skirts baggier, floor-length, paired them with wingtips and argyle socks. If dem nuh waan see no shape, dem aggo see shape-less! The irony? That shapeless look became a trend after I graduated. Drama! Five years of Architecture school in Canada, then a nine-month solo trip through Asia, filled sketchbooks with designs inspired by places, fabrics, bodies, and movement. Living out of a five-gallon knapsack for nine months bruised my vanity but sparked a persistent question: Why can’t we have clothes that work anywhere, anytime? To the market in the morning, dinner in the evening, and dancing at night…without looking chaka chaka in between? That’s how the idea of a versatile, convertible wardrobe lodged itself in my head. So it was with a likkle Necchi sewing machine in my aunt’s Brooklyn apartment that I stitched the first SIIM pieces in 1999. “Fashion is a demanding dance partner. After nine years I was tapped out… mentally, financially, emotionally. But the designs stayed fresh.” Fashion is a demanding dance partner. After nine years I was tapped out… mentally, financially, emotionally. I packed away my fashion dreams… but the designs stayed fresh. Fast-forward through years of working as an architect, art director, and creating my own niche in event architecture, and the decision to relaunch SIIM in 2024 came with hard questions: What was worth bringing forward? Which designs still had something to say? And could this brand be more than just clothing? The answers came in Patwa (to Raas), in sustainability, and in the conviction that fashion could be a tool for empowerment: timeless, adaptable, unapologetically Jamaican. Print-on-demand was the first step back, reducing waste but introducing new challenges, integration nightmares and quality battles (“We broke Wix” became the running joke). One Bagga Claat became the perfect title for this phase: the joy and the headaches, the experiments and the wins, all tangled up in the fabric of relaunching a brand. Designing for More than the Runway What made the relaunch of SIIM possible wasn’t just my love of fashion. It was decades of travel and professional work that sharpened the skills needed to build SIIM as a world, not just a wardrobe. In1998, somewhere in Laos, I had an epiphany. I had to point out Jamaica on a map to a classroom full of eager young Monks. (Why was I in a classroom of monks, you may ask…) I felt stupid — the map looked funny. I had to look closer. We were not in our usual spot just below the belly button of the Atlantic. Noooo… This was an Asian atlas and there we were, shoved to the far edge, a likkle dot barely clinging to the paper. Yet the moment people heard “Jamaica,” their faces lit up with a Bob Marley smile. That’s when it hit me: even when Jamaica sits on the margins of someone else’s world, we step boldly into the center of their imagination. Small, yes… but mighty. Likkle but Tallawah. Map of the world highlighting how likkle (but tallawah) Jamaica is. Even when Jamaica sits on the margins of someone else’s world, we step boldly into the center of their imagination. Small, yes… but mighty. Likkle but Tallawah. That lesson, of seeing Jamaica small on the map but mighty in imagination, mirrors how my career shaped SIIM. Each discipline taught me how to build something bigger than its parts. Architecture trained me to balance function, beauty, and user experience. Designing offices and residences in Kingston taught me how people move through space, how details guide their attention, how stories are told in glass, concrete, and light. Those lessons are now in every SIIM garment: the way a seam falls, the way a sleeve allows for movement, the way a cut frames the wearer, just like a room frames its occupant. Event architecture showed me how to choreograph atmosphere. Designing for Jamaica House at the O2 Arena in London in 2012 meant translating national pride into a physical experience: stages, lighting, flow, and rhythm carrying thousands of people through a shared story. That same thinking powers a brand launch, the mix of energy and intimacy that makes something unforgettable. Film art direction taught me to see each frame as a world. Getting dressed in SIIM means stepping into a scene. The folds, colors, and proportions are chosen with the same care as a set backdrop, because they are part of the story you’re telling… just by walking into a room. So, the verandah shows taught me to create. Architecture taught me to structure. Events taught me to immerse. Film taught me to frame. Travel taught me to see and aspire. And fashion… fashion is where all of it comes together. Jamaican-isiim SIIM is clothing you can travel with, live in, and hand down. It’s a wrap skirt that started as a solution to a very real Southeast Asia bus problem (a story for another time). It’s fashion that comes from problem-solving, much like Architecture. Identify the challenge. Set the parameters. Create a solution that feels inevitable. I’ve seen firsthand the waste of fast fashion. I’ve committed the crime myself… So, for SIIM, sustainability is a necessity not a marketing angle. We are slowing things way down. Every piece is meant to last…not only in your closet, but in your story. So what’s the message in the seams? Jamaican flair doesn’t apologize; we flaunt our identity and how we dress tells stories about movement, migration, and the refusal to be boxed in. Even the way we speak in Jamaica (Patwa) is colourful and strategic. It’s an unwritten language that allows for freedom, play, and creativity. It slips into other cultures effortlessly, giving them new ways to express things they couldn’t say before. Patwa is a cultural export, just like reggae or jerk seasoning… and it’s sneakily addictive man! From Kingston Girl to Global Brand SIIM grew out of ambition, but also frustration. I wanted to expand Jamaica’s global identity to include people like me. The brand that became SIIM grew out a frustration with the limits placed on identity, on style, on what “being Jamaican” is supposed to look like. At first it was just about clothes, but as I’ve grown, so has the brand’s ambition. We’re now shaping SIIM into a lifestyle brand (fashion first, yes), but with books (Gallivant), food, games, and tech in the pipeline. Each element tells a different chapter of the same Jamaican story. But SIIM was never going to be about parroting clichés of “island life.” No sah! SIIM is about leaning into complexity and contradiction. Humor, irreverence, intellect, innovation. From Kingston’s UNESCO Creative City of Music status to the unclaimed global influence of Jamaican sound system culture, Jamaicans are already world-shapers. SIIM’s job is to carve out and claim a space, visually, physically, sustainably on the world stage. The Bigger Picture I want SIIM to be a global lifestyle brand rooted in a lesser-known Jamaica. Not just rum, reggae, and resorts. But Kingston rooftops at sunset. A pot of red peas soup on the fire wid a whol’a Scotchie pon top. A conversation that swings between Patwa and the proper Queen’s English while we debate existentialism and the rise of phygital experiences. A sound system bassline shaking your ribcage at 2am… but its tech house or Amapiano not Reggae that you’re dancing to. Beyond SIIM, my creative life stretches far past the sewing machine. I’ve shaped national moments, helped brands like BMW tell their stories through space and spectacle, and built worlds that existed for just one night or one scene, but left an impression that lasted years. For me, “One Bagga Claat” is more than a Jamaican idiom. It’s a declaration that this brand is the sum of many disciplines, many influences, and many stories. It’s the acknowledgment that yes, the relaunch is full of drama, but it’s the kind of drama that makes things unforgettable. And as every Jamaican knows, if yuh ah go dweet, dweet big! From fashion to food, from media to tech, SIIM is building a movement… reverse colonialism: our rhythms in your headphones, our fabrics on your skin, our language in your mouth. From fashion to food, from media to tech, SIIM is building a movement… What I call reverse colonialism: our rhythms in your headphones, our fabrics on your skin, our language in your mouth. The next chapter is already in motion, taking SIIM’s versatile designs and Jamaican attitude to the Caribbean, the UK, the US, Japan, and beyond. Because SIIM isn’t just a bag of cloth. It’s a way of thinking, a way of moving through the world. And truss me, dis bagga claat journey? It’s only just getting started.

“Every Jamaican you meet has their own sense of reality. That’s what makes us bold. That’s what makes us unbothered. That’s what makes us… us.” — SiiM   When people hear the word "Jamaican," a few images spring to mind. We’re often seen through the lens of music, athletics, or the ganja-smoking beach philosopher. But rarely are Jamaicans seen as cosmopolitan, intellectual, or multi-ethnic—despite the fact that many of us are all three. Even here at home, I’ve had people ask if I’m Japanese ( Japanese, though? ), as though someone who looks and behaves like me couldn’t possibly be born and raised in Kingston. But I am. And I represent a Jamaica that often goes unseen. I am part of a multiracial, multicultural Jamaica. Not just African and British, but Spanish, Arab, German, Chinese, Indian, Scottish, Hungarian, Taino. I’m one of the many Jamaicans whose identity is layered, complex, and global. Our motto—Out of many, one people—is more than a slogan. It’s a reality. And it’s one of, if not our greatest strength. Leaning Into Complexity SIIM, the brand, was born out of this space: a desire to express what it truly means to be Jamaican—outside the stereotypes. Our vision leans into what Jamaica really is: a nation built on migration, integration, and unapologetic individuality. We’re not here to repeat what’s already been done. We're not here to perform “Jamaicanness” in expected ways. You won’t see us leading with clichés. You will see humor, irreverence, intellect, innovation, and serious creative energy. From animation and software design to fashion, gastronomy, and film—there is an entire cultural vocabulary in Jamaica that rarely gets the spotlight. SIIM exists to change that. The Spirit of the Brand There’s something uniquely Jamaican about carving your own reality and living it loud. Every Jamaican I know walks with a kind of internal certainty—a refusal to be defined by others. That is the essence of SIIM. SIIM (the brand persona) is me yes (for now), but SIIM-the-brand is more of an idea. SIIM, like me, is a woman. An architect. A fashion designer. A traveler. A cook. A storyteller. A speaker of two tongues—Patwa and  the Queen’s English. A walking paradox. A Caribbean futurist. A Jamaican, yes, but not the Jamaican you might be expecting. On Culture, Sound, and Legacy Kingston, my hometown, is a UNESCO Creative City of Music. Kingston gave the world mento, ska, rocksteady, reggae, dancehall—and dub, the root of global electronic music. From dubstep to drum and bass, from sampling to sound system culture, the echoes of Jamaica reverberate across the globe. And yet, one thing we haven’t fully claimed is electronic dance music—despite seeding the sound. I believe that needs to change. It haffi change. But, I digress... SIIM in the World SIIM isn't just a brand for Jamaica. It’s for the diaspora—and for anyone whose identity is in motion. We want to be known in the Caribbean, the UK, the US, Canada, Europe, Japan and anywhere Jamaican culture has left its imprint. From Brixton to Brooklyn, Port of Spain to Toronto. Jamaica has long exported its culture, style, language, and rhythm. Even now, Londoners say Wha’Gwaan like it’s theirs. (And in many ways, it is.) In 2023, a UK MP even addressed Parliament in Patwa. Go deh Minista! That’s cultural impact. That’s reach. That’s what we mean when we say SIIM is about Reverse Colonialism —our rhythms in your headphones, our fabrics on your bodies, our language in your mouth. What’s Next This post is the first in a series tracing SiiM’s journey to SIIM—from girlhood in Kingston to global wanderer, from architectural designer to fashion brand founder. Gallivant, the book, captures the journey that sparked it all. The line that followed (fluid, flattering, intentionally unstructured) emerged from real movement through spaces and cultures. Over the next few months, we’ll take you behind the seams. From early sketches to signature silhouettes. From Spanish Town to Southeast Asia. From sound system and street dance to runway sashay. Because SIIM isn’t just a fashion brand. It’s a rhythm. A way of thinking. A challenge. A vibe. It’s a lifestyle . Cyah Style Me! [You can't outdo me/ I define my own style]

“The right shoe doesn’t match anything and can go with everything.” Take a page from the Stoics: there’s nothing more freeing than reducing decision fatigue. Take a good look at your wardrobe — what pieces make you feel like you? What clothes speak to you? Now, next time you shop, get a couple of those in different colours. Having a few of the same go-to items will spare you from having to agonize in front of the closet and waste those precious moments you will never get back. Personal tip: pick stuff that’s loose fitting, comfy but still makes a strong graphic or geometric statement. That way you can always be confident that your personal style is well represented even when you feel a little bloated or less pretty. And I recommend you splurge on one or two well-made and comfy statement shoes. The right shoe doesn’t match anything and can go with everything. Read the full article here

The Search is the Fountain Photograph by SIIM We’ve all heard about the Fountain of Youth—that mythical source of eternal youth that people travel to the ends of the earth to find. But here’s the irony: the act of seeking is the fountain . This idea hit me hard when I was exploring Southeast Asia back in 1998. While I was backpacking, making my way through over a dozen countries, I came to see travel as a youth tonic, not because it magically keeps you young, but because it forces you to stay curious, flexible, and engaged, and that’s what keeps you young!   The truth is, as long as you keep searching, keep learning, and keep exploring, you’re living young. And you don’t need to book a flight to feel that way. Read the full article here .

Mindful Travel 1998–08-Cambodia: Boys playing slipper kicking. Photograph by SIIM. Twenty years ago, while wandering around Southeast Asia, I learned that we don’t start out seeking new places to find ourselves . We mostly travel to escape, to forget and maybe, if we’re lucky, to see our own lives with fresh eyes. Read the full article here

Wavetop-Getty Images Escapism comes in many forms, and for me, it’s about indulging in the things that let me feel free: fashion, travel, food… and designing. These are the lenses through which I experience the world — and each one offers its own kind of escape. Read the full article here

Design is an integral part of human existence and survival, and survival is determined by the rules of the society we keep (or that keeps us), and these rules are not static. The rules of contemporary fashion are also in constant flux, being made and broken almost simultaneously. The basic rule of life, however, remains the same: live and let live. It is my goal to achieve a balance between these often conflicting systems of rules. Read the full article here

Fashion, often dismissed as frivolous, can be a powerful tool for personal expression and positive change. While it can be superficial and fleeting, it also offers opportunities for self-empowerment and mental health support. To harness its potential, however, the industry must move beyond trends and focus on creating meaningful experiences for individuals. Read the full article here

Often, people watching me work will say, she's a workaholic, slave driver... and so many other less flattering things. My favorite is miserable brownin' wid di bleach hair and tattoos. But what they don't know is that, yes, mi a wrerk ha'ad [I'm working hard], but I'm doing what I love, to a standard that pleases me. I escape daily into my passion. And I go to bed exhausted and wake (sometimes still exhausted), ready to do it all over again! R ead the full article here