Who is CHICHI

Sometimes life surprises you when you have stopped expecting it.

For me, it happened the day I sewed a random bag… which wasn’t so random after all.

It wasn’t a studied project or a dream chased for years.

It was a game, a little experiment at home, with an old sewing machine I had never used before. But that bag—the first one, crooked and imperfect—stirred something inside me.

In my life, I have done many things: worked, raised two children, written books, opened and closed businesses. I have tried, stumbled, and started over. I often felt out of place, as if others found their path and I hadn’t.

Then came the bags.

At first small, sold to friends and acquaintances. Until my son—who believed in me more than I did—pushed me onto social media. From there, an avalanche began: compliments, criticisms, emotions. I realized it was no longer a hobby. I either had to quit… or truly believe in it.

It wasn’t simple: bureaucracy, searching for a space, rules, and costs. I cried, I had moments of discouragement. But a few days ago, I finally opened my workshop: a place that smells of fabrics, wood, colors, and possibilities.

My bags are handcrafted, unique, sewn one by one with my hands and heart. I didn’t study fashion: everything is born from my manual skills, creativity, and the desire to build.

Each bag bears the name of a city. I love to travel and I believe that objects can have a story too. Sometimes I choose the name, other times it happens by chance or the customer chooses it. In any case, that name becomes its passport: the bag leaves, travels, lives, and accompanies someone into the world.

Today I am 50 years old and have a workshop all my own.

I don’t know where this journey will take me, but I am finally giving myself permission to believe in it. With fears, mistakes, and small victories.

As long as I have a thread to pull and an idea in my head, I will continue to create bags.

And I hope they can bring the women who choose them a smile, a bit of color, a moment of lightness.

This is my workshop.

This is my courage.

And this—finally—is my path.