I have been running The Painter’s Daughter from a garden cabin at my home since 2019.

There was no detailed business plan behind it. I had spent years gathering things I loved, putting pieces together and being told by friends and family that I should do something with my eye for beauty.

I am not academic at all. I have always trusted my instincts and gone with what feels right. I learn by doing, watching, travelling and taking an interest in the world around me.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved being outdoors. The texture of freshly turned mud in a field, the changing colours of the hedgerows, the grain in old timber weathered by years of wind and rain and the character of old stone walls are all things that catch my attention.

My dad was a painter and decorator in his early working life then worked overseas and turned to art later in life. Years later, when it came to naming the business, The Painter’s Daughter felt like the natural choice. I fell into retail by chance and quickly realised that I loved the visual side of it.

Creating displays, working with colour and seeing how different things could sit together and somehow just work came naturally to me. More than anything, it reinforced the importance of trusting my eye and recognising when things belonged together.

As Dad worked overseas when I was younger, travel became part of life from an early age. As soon as I was old enough wherever I went, I found myself wandering through markets, independent shops and places away from the main shopping streets. What interested me was what people made, what they wore and the things they chose for their homes.

The things I found on my travels, near and far, gradually found their way into my own home and wardrobe. I never set out to create a particular look. I simply chose things I loved. Over time, my home became a collection of those discoveries. Friends and family often asked where things had come from or how I knew certain pieces would work together.The answer was instinct.

I've never lost my enjoyment of rummaging. Whether it is an antiques fair, a village market, an independent shop or a stall tucked away in a corner, I enjoy the search as much as the find. I’m never looking for the most expensive or fashionable thing. I am looking for something that can’t be left behind. Sometimes it is the colour, sometimes the texture and sometimes it is something I cannot quite explain.

Eventually, enough people suggested that I should do something with that interest that I began to take the idea seriously. The cabin became the place where everything came together. From the beginning, I wanted to offer pieces for both people and their homes. To me, clothing and interiors have always been connected.

A favourite jacket, an unusual scarf, a piece of jewellery, a lamp, a chair or a handmade bowl can all become part of your story. They are things we choose because they subconsciously speak to and connect with us.

The places I visit continue to influence what I choose through their colours, materials, traditions and craftsmanship.

Takini comes from a different influence. The name is inspired by a Lakota word often associated with survival and resilience. I was drawn to the idea behind it rather than a strict definition:

'carrying something forward, recognising the value already there and allowing a new chapter to begin.'

That feels very close to the way I look at things. It also appeals to me from an environmental point of view. I've never been someone who believes everything has to be brand new. There is something satisfying about reusing, repurposing and finding value in things that already exist. Whether it's a piece of furniture, something decorative or an item of clothing, I like the thought that good things can be appreciated for longer and given a new place in somebody else's story.

Whether it is something to wear or something for the home, I am drawn to pieces with warmth, texture and personality.

Quite often, the things we value most are not the newest or most obvious. They are the things we discover, live alongside and grow attached to over time. I do not believe there is one right way to dress or one right way to create a home.

Most people already know what catches their eye and what feels right to them, even when they cannot put it into words. My role is simply to bring that out. Sometimes all it takes is finding the right piece. Homes and wardrobes should develop naturally. They should be filled with things gathered along the way, things connected to memories and things chosen because they bring pleasure.

Kindness matters just as much. I enjoy meeting people, hearing their stories and sharing the stories behind the things I find. Whether someone is choosing something for themselves, for somebody else or for their home, I want the experience to feel personal and enjoyable.

I am still in the same cabin, still rummaging, still finding things that catch my eye and still enjoying sharing them with other people.
The collection continues to develop, but the way I choose things instinctively has not changed.

I trust my eye, follow what feels right and hope that the things I find help other people do the same.