We’ve modelled the size and weight after our favourite vintage French scarves to create chic, easy to wear designs for every day use. Wear them wrapped once around the neck, tucked in to a jacket, or tied in the hair. Crafted from soft viscose, the fabric is a lighter, airier weight than our kimonos, with the same beautifully soft feel. They make the perfect gift too!
About the Print:
At Market of Stars, we are fierce believers in art — real art — made by human hands. To us, the arts in all their beautiful, riotous forms, represent the very best of who we are, and the depth of emotion, imagination, and empathy we are capable of as human beings. It’s why we choose not to use AI art in our work. Why would we ever give away the best of who we are? Labour of Love is a heartfelt reaction against AI art, and our joyful celebration of the arts in all their marvellous and imperfect beauty. Music, literature, painting, cooking, crafting, creating — are represented here in a glorious collage of art from the past four centuries. The open book at the bottom of our design reads: anima in opere, which translates from latin as the soul in the work, or the work of the soul. The trim is a stunning and resonant quote from Rumi: “Let the beauty of what you love be what you do. There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the earth.” This is our way: to support and celebrate real artists, and make a promise to you that we will never use AI art in our pieces at Market of Stars. The beauty of what we love… will always be what we do.
100% viscose (derived from plant fibres such as bamboo and wood). Handwash, hang to dry.
68cm x 155cm.
Our Muse
The creative, the old soul. Women who believe in art as a way of life, who celebrate the beautiful, messy, joyful work of being human. Women who kneel and kiss the earth.
More Inspo
Since I began Market of Stars in 2020, it has been my mission (and my joy!) to share, create, discuss, and celebrate the arts. I believe with my whole heart that wherever the world is headed — and however much things may change — art will always be a light that can’t be dimmed. We will keep painting pictures, writing poems, telling each other stories, and feeling deeply, just like we always have. And of course, we will keep doing something else the machines can’t… we will love one another, and dream.
xo,
Danielle
Devotions
after Mary Oliver
Today, climb the old wood ladder
in your throat.
Pick bright, wet apples
off the bough,
put them in a cloth bag
slung over your shoulder.
Walk like an orphan, finally
home, and if you can
see the front door and lighted
windows with eyes so tender.
Put music on, open a cookbook
spill cinnamon across the counter
like an offering and brush it
away with a sleeve.
Wash your hands at the sink
for the millionth time, and if you can
feel them come together
beneath the tap in praise.
Think, all that flour and spice,
ink and blood, pollen and dirt,
the rainbows of paint you’ve rinsed
from your fingers.
Take the compost peelings out
and stand still, barefoot,
surrender to the rush of birdsong.
See how a spider’s web in the fence
so nimbly made
has caught nothing today
but the wind. Feel the dew
and the gravel, your heart rooted
in the orchard of your chest,
the ripe pulse of its ache.
Return to the house,
breathe in apple, warm cinnamon,
and if you can,
know you are welcome.
