CALLE DEL MAR AND THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

Calle Del Mar begins with memory and with the quiet knowledge of the hands. The brand grows from gestures learned slowly, from sewing, knitting and crocheting, from techniques passed from one generation of women to another like a private language. Its founder, Aza Ziegler, grew up surrounded by this world, and her work still carries that intimate idea of making as a form of storytelling. Founded in California and shaped through memory and material, Calle Del Mar develops collections that feel personal and refined at the same time. Many pieces are hand knitted or hand crocheted in small workshops close to the brand’s studio, and the materials are carefully sourced from Italian mills. Each garment carries the time of its making and the presence of the hands that created it. There is a sense of calm continuity in Calle Del Mar. The garments are designed to move with the body and to remain close to everyday life. The collections are created to be worn, kept and passed on over time. In this way, the brand builds a quiet dialogue between memory, craft and contemporary life.

Calle Del Mar takes its name from the street where you grew up in Northern California. In a way, the brand already carries a geography within its name. How much of your childhood landscape still lives inside the garments you design today?

I’m most creative when I’m away from my desk, usually on a walk, in quiet, grounding places. Home has always been one of those places for me. When I step away, my mind starts to buzz with ideas. I find myself constantly returning to that feeling of home when designing a collection. I think about pieces that feel like they’ve been owned and loved forever – things that feel nostalgic, handmade, and deeply personal. There’s a sense of comfort and ease I’m always chasing, that feeling of loving something so much it becomes a part of you. In that way, my childhood landscape is still very present in what I create. It lives in the textures, the softness, the familiarity, everything that makes a garment feel like home.

You have often spoken about learning to sew and knit alongside your mother and grandmother. Do you feel that Calle Del Mar is, in some sense, a continuation of a matrilineal tradition, a kind of creative inheritance passed down through generations of women?

Yes, absolutely. Calle Del Mar is a continuation of a matrilineal tradition, a creative inheritance passed down through generations of women in my family. My great noni, who I never had the chance to meet, was an incredible cook, crocheter, and seamstress. Everything she knew was passed down to the women who came after her, just as it had been passed down to her. I was fortunate to inherit many of the things she made, and through them and many stories, I’ve always felt a deep connection to her. I can feel her creativity, strength and spunk through every piece. My mom would tell stories about cooking and creating with her, and my noni carried that same spirit forward. She was an amazing seamstress and taught me how to knit. Growing up, my mom and I were always making things together, designing, going to flea markets to find fabrics, sewing my clothes and costumes. Creating has always been a part of my life, it’s in my DNA, in my lineage. It’s something that makes me feel most alive. That’s why honoring these crafts and traditions feels so essential. And why we celebrate artisans who have also been generationally passing down these crafts for many years.

In an industry that often celebrates novelty, your work seems to honour continuity: craft techniques, memory, and the slow transmission of knowledge. How do you balance the desire to innovate with the responsibility of preserving these traditions?

I would actually describe many of our pieces as novelty, but they’re always rooted in craft, memory, and slowness. For me, innovation doesn’t mean starting from scratch; it means building on something that already carries meaning. We think deeply about how things are made, drawing inspiration from memory and tradition, and then finding ways to preserve what makes those elements special while still making them our own. Often, that evolution happens through silhouette, reimagining a traditional piece or a family heirloom in a way that feels current. It still carries its original spirit, but is translated into the proportions and sensibilities of today. That balance feels natural to me: honoring where something comes from, while allowing it to live and evolve in the present.

Many designers speak about heritage as a concept, yet in your case it seems profoundly tangible: heirloom garments, family stories, even the gestures of making. Are there particular objects or pieces from your family history that still guide your design process?

Most recently, it was a pair of crocheted undergarments my great grandmother made for her wedding day. They became the inspiration for our heirloom set which has CDM delicately embedded within the hand-crocheted neckline, adding a meaningful and personal touch to this heirloom-inspired piece. My mother gifted them to me on my own wedding day, and the moment I received them, I felt an immediate pull to reinterpret them in my own way. There was something so powerful about that continuity, this piece moving through generations, carrying both memory and meaning. It wasn’t about replicating them exactly, but about honoring their spirit and translating that into something that feels like me, while still holding onto the history they carry.

Calle Del Mar feels less like a seasonal fashion label and more like a living ecosystem of relationships with artisans, mills, and local production in California. Was building a community around the brand always part of your vision?

You captured it perfectly: Calle Del Mar really is an ecosystem of relationships, from artisans to mills to local production. Building that kind of community has always been important to me. Creativity and collaboration are at the heart of everything we do. I’ve always wanted the brand to feel deeply meaningful and rooted in relationships, because I truly believe that energy carries through into the product: the craft, the care, the intention behind it. It should feel celebratory, beautiful, and personal. I’ve also never been someone who follows a traditional path. I prefer to move at my own pace, in a way that feels aligned and intentional. And I think that approach naturally lends itself to building something more connected, more human, and ultimately more lasting.

You founded the brand at a very young age, while still at Pratt Institute. Looking back, do you see Calle Del Mar as something you deliberately built, or as something that gradually unfolded, almost organically, from your upbringing and values?

Calle Del Mar really unfolded gradually and organically. In the beginning it was a true passion project while working in other facets of fashion between 2014 and 2019. Ofcourse, I always approached it with the intent of success but not as its sole purpose. Its sole purpose was for those first 4 years to fulfil me. My parents are big believers in doing what you love and have always been full of many creative projects both those who are fruitful and those that are for yourself. So that is engrained in who I am and also in my lineage. Around 2018 was when I made the decision to give it my full attention and approach it with more intention. In many ways, I think that was always meant to happen, but because it was rooted in passion, the journey felt organic rather than planned. Before that, it was more about creative exploration, an outlet for making and experimenting. Then it shifted into something I wanted to build and grow. I saw that it could really work. Between 2018 and 2019, I committed to it fully, and that’s when it really transformed into what it is today. Even now, that sense of organicness is still at its core. We do things in our own way, at our own pace, and stay grounded in the same values it began with.

The history of fashion is often written through large houses and patriarchal legacies, yet Calle Del Mar seems rooted in quieter forms of inheritance: domestic craft, family memory, and female knowledge. Do you think there is a different kind of heritage emerging through brands like yours?

Calle Del Mar is very much rooted in those quieter forms of inheritance: domestic craft, family memory, and female knowledge. That kind of heritage feels deeply personal, and in many ways, more intimate than the traditional narratives we often see in fashion. I do think there’s a shift happening. Our generation feels more intentional, almost as a response to the oversaturation of everything. There’s a desire to slow down, to understand where things come from, and to feel connected to that lineage rather than separate from it. I think, in contrast, our parents’ generation was often more focused on the idea of the American dream, on building something new, sometimes at the expense of leaving certain traditions behind. Now, it feels like there’s a return. A reclaiming of heritage, but in a way that’s personal and self-defined. Brands like mine are part of that shift—honoring those histories while reinterpreting them for the present. Wearing who we are proudly is something I feel our generation is focused on.

Your garments carry a certain timelessness, as though they were meant to be kept, repaired, and passed on. Do you imagine Calle Del Mar pieces as future heirlooms, objects that might one day belong to someone else’s family story?

It is absolutely my intention that Calle Del Mar pieces become garments that are passed down: well loved, cared for, and kept for a lifetime. There would be nothing more meaningful to me than knowing they could become part of someone else’s family story, in the same way the pieces I inherited have become part of mine. That’s what I hope to create – pieces that hold that same kind of emotional weight. Things that aren’t just worn, but lived in, remembered, and eventually passed on.

You have spoken about the importance of producing locally and supporting women-run factories. In your view, can ethical production itself become a form of heritage, a way of shaping how future generations will understand fashion?

Producing locally, when we can, is incredibly important to us. That includes supporting women-run factories, but also family-run factories where craft has been passed down through generations. I do believe ethical production is a form of heritage. It’s not just about how something is made in the present, but about setting a standard for the future, preserving knowledge, honoring process, and valuing the people behind the work.

I think our generation has a responsibility to bring meaning back to manufacturing and celebrate handmade before it’s lost. To honor its slowness, its intention to choose doing things the right way over doing them the fastest way. In that sense, ethical production becomes something we pass down too. Not just garments, but a way of making that respects both craft and the earth.

If Calle Del Mar were a family archive rather than a fashion label – a collection of memories, gestures, and landscapes – what do you think would be its most precious document?

This is such a beautiful question, and almost impossible to answer. If I had to choose something from our most recent collection it would be the Tea Party or Daisy Chain set. They hold so much of what Calle Del Mar is about: memory, femininity, and craft. It is inspired by stitches found in my great grandmother’s work.