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Posted on February 21, 2021.

Broozi is one year old. 

as a brand. 

as a business. 

as an outlet to create. 

and as an extension of Mak. 

The feels expressed. 

The experiences lived and then retranslated. 

Broozi was a nickname given to Mak when she was a baby. 

A nickname I never forgot about but never thought it would ever be used again. 

 

It all started with an idea to make a crewneck sweater into a hoodie. 

I used pieces given to me and an old over bleached work hoodie. 

 

After making a bunch of patches from cut pants and tshirts, I was discarding everything else. 

Instead of making more waste I started cutting all the pockets to figure out how to use later.

 

I remember being in my 4th floor studio with my partner at the time with all these pockets laid out on the bed. 

unsure what to do with it, I just started throwing them on top of pants in weird ways. 

Later I realized instead of tryna intentionally be weird with it, just make it practical. 

So every pocket was hand sewn at the time for extra storage space for the things you needed on the go. 

 

Broozi would maybe be possible without Kirby, but probably not. 

When I moved to Philly it was on a whim, it was something my partner and I had planned out and gave ourselves six months to a year to do. 

I was at a point in my creative life that I was completely unsure of my creative self. 

 

Kirby’s art inspired me to begin my own upcycle journey. I didn’t even know what upcycle meant. 

Kirby let me spend a few hours at their place one afternoon and gave me an airbrush tutorial, sewing machine lesson and showed me the advantages of also owning your own embroidery machine. 

Kirby, from my whole heart, I thank you. 

 

Too much vulnerability yet? lol as I go through the photos on the Brooz insta, I see myself evolving not only creatively but as a person. 

I see pain, loneliness, experimentation, lost, resourcefulness, patterns, identity, community, change and flow. 

 

Please enjoy this drop and thank you for supporting and celebrating a year of literal blood, sweat and tears. 

love, broozi