There's a particular kind of joy in sharing your clothes with the people you care about. Even more when they’re your kids. Watching them wear what you wear, and then someday, passing it down as well.

Pedro wears his, and his kids will grow into theirs. Pieces that work, that you keep wearing, and that someone smaller than you is quietly waiting to grow into. If you take away the seasons and the newness, that's most of what clothing is made to be.

And when you make them well enough, this is the goal: not for clothes to just last a season or two, but for someone who wasn’t born yet when you bought it, to wear it someday. And they will be happy to, because it's still as great as it was before.

A house is inherited in its rooms, the ones that remember who lived in them. A shirt is inherited the same way, worn soft by someone you love before you ever put it on yourself. Something with kind this life in it is doing exactly what it was made for.