I designed the spring collection in the midst of a season of change: I’m closing the last chapter of my twenties, I stepped away from a long-term relationship, I'm living alone for the first time, and working to build stability into a young, volatile business while expanding the team at Mixed. It has been a time of transition—one that has required patience, trust, and a willingness to sit with uncertainty.
I started designing Spring '25 last September, just as the air began to cool and the leaves started turning. I was learning how to navigate life and business alone for the first time. Coming home to an empty apartment felt unfamiliar, so I threw myself into long days in the studio. I painted my space, filled it with new furniture, art, and plants. I changed my routine and started going to bed at 9 p.m., waking up at 5 a.m., and making it to the studio by 7. I leaned into structure, hoping it would create steadiness in a season that felt anything but.
I planted many seeds last fall—some of which are ready to bloom, while others still need more time.
I’ve always thought of my life in tiny revolutions. Born in California, I appreciate how the seasons in New York remind me that life ebbs and flows, that long winters don’t mean growth has stalled forever. Change is slow and cyclical. The work we do today rarely shows results tomorrow. The life cycle of each collection reminds me of this lesson constantly.
We often underestimate how long each revolution takes. We expect ideas, businesses, healing—everything—to happen faster than it actually does. And when it doesn’t, we assume something is wrong with us or what we’re doing. But more often than not, we don’t have it wrong—we just have the wrong timeline. And in a world that moves so fast, I find that patience and persistence are in low supply.
This winter felt extra long for me. To get through it, I reached for color. And flowers. I wanted to work on something beautiful and bright, pieces that transported me beyond the long, cold, lonely days of winter—even if only for hours at a time.
The florals in this collection are more than just prints; they are a celebration of becoming and a welcoming of a new season. Although blooms take center stage in this collection, it is not lost on me that they are the most ephemeral stage of growth. They are the reward, the moment of celebration, the part of the journey that everyone sees. But they emerge from seasons of waiting, the slow and steady stretch towards the sun, the quiet, unseen phases of growth that no one applauds.
I’m learning to celebrate the unseen moments as much as the visible ones. And as I shift my focus from outcomes to inputs, I’ve found that the real measure of progress isn’t in what I achieve—but in who I become along the way.
Wherever you find yourself in your own tiny revolution, I hope this collection meets you exactly where you are. Whether you’re in full bloom or still working through an uncomfortable period of growth, I designed these bold, statement styles to make you feel seen in full color.
x
Nasrin
