History

The foundations of Chiora were laid long before its name existed.

From an early age, I was drawn to spaces where care, art and design intersect. I was the kind of child who noticed details — how objects were made, how materials felt, how small choices shaped the whole. My mother was adamant that screens should never replace imagination, so she filled my time with art instead. Drawing, creating, observing — these basically became my first language.

Alongside that sensitivity, there was always an instinctive pull towards animals. Dogs, in particular, felt familiar long before I understood why. One of my first words was dog. I begged my parents relentlessly, though they were responsible enough to wait — until my determination became impossible to ignore.

That early balance between creativity, patience and longing for something I couldn’t have would come to define much of what followed.


A Life Shaped by Dogs

I got my first dog, Blacky, a Miniature American Shepherd when I was 9 years old. A couple years later, I got Maze the Border Collie all the way from Slovenia who was my absolute dream dog. Athletic, incredible temperament and perfect drive to keep busy whenever I was bored. I became involved in dog rescue in my early teens as a result of feeling like I wasn’t doing enough, first fostering dogs, and by seventeen I was vice-president of a rescue charity. Since then, I’ve adopted out over 250 dogs and cats, and travelled repeatedly to Romania to volunteer with local organisations, working alongside people who give everything they have to animals that have very little.

Through my travels and lived experiences, I found that shelters are places of immense compassion, but also of constant compromise. When resources are limited, priorities are clear: food, medical care, and shelter come first. Grooming rarely makes the list — not because people don’t care, but because they care enough to make difficult choices. Time and money are two things that are extremely limited in rescue.

I remember standing in shelters, running my hands through coats that hadn’t been brushed in months, sometimes years. Thick or curly undercoats tangled, matted and compacted, heavy on the dogs’ bodies. Watching them struggle with something so physical, so uncomfortable, stayed with me. It raised a question that never quite left:
Could there be a way to help that didn’t rely solely on donations that were always stretched too thin?

An Overlooked Material

Chiora was born from the desire to give that material value — not just aesthetic value, but ethical weight. To transform something overlooked into something considered. And to use it as a means of supporting dogs on a scale that could grow beyond individual acts of care.

As my time in high school in Luxembourg was coming to an end, I began planning my move to London to study Fashion Marketing at London College of Fashion. I was already thinking deeply about fashion — about sustainability, materials and the responsibility that comes with creating objects in the world.

I’ve always been drawn to craftsmanship, fine fibres and the beauty of things made with intention. But the deeper I researched, the more disillusioned I became. Fabrics I once believed to be environmentally friendly revealed complex and often damaging realities. It was eye-opening and unsettling to realise how many compromises were hidden beneath the surface of “sustainable” fashion.

Then one day, during a routine brushing session at home, clouds of undercoat filled the room. Soft, warm, abundant — and destined right for the bin.

Standing there, surrounded by it, I realised these two worlds didn’t have to exist separately.

Chiora was born from the desire to give that material value — not just aesthetic value, but ethical weight. To transform something overlooked into something considered. And to use it as a means of supporting dogs on a scale that could grow beyond individual acts of care.



Chai & Orra

The name Chiora carries my story for this project — but more importantly, it carries theirs.

In October 2021, while volunteering in Romania during a spaying and vaccination campaign, I met two young boys in a rural village. As our team was preparing to leave, they approached us holding a tiny puppy, asking if someone might take him — hoping he could have a better life. That puppy became Chai.

Back at the shelter, another story was unfolding. Orra was waiting. Her journey to me would be far longer. Before finally finding her place in my home, she passed through four different families. Intelligent, sensitive and strong-willed, she was never an “easy” dog. She struggled deeply with separation anxiety, tested boundaries relentlessly and demanded a level of patience I wasn’t always sure I had.

Both Chai and Orra came to me as teenagers — double trouble in every sense. Beds, shoes, walls and any expectations were destroyed on a daily basis. At seventeen, it truly felt as though I had become a parent overnight. It was exhausting, often overwhelming and at times isolating. Yet it also asked something of me I couldn’t walk away from: to show up fully, to pour my heart and soul into them and to make the best out of it.

Through every difficult moment, they changed me. They forced me to listen, to build resilience, to adapt. In many ways, they shaped the values that now sit at the heart of Chiora. 

The name is an homage to them — and to everything they’ve taught me.
They are the true reason this project exists.

  • Chai, Orra and myself hiking

  • Orra and her siblings

  • The first photo I took of Chai

  • Orra's mother with her puppies

  • Orra as a puppy