[vc_row][vc_column][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1698923423787{padding-bottom: 30px !important;}”]

The House

[/vc_column_text][sober_banner image_size=”full” image=”907″][/sober_banner][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_column_text]The House of Kaparda descends from a family tradition that unites weavers and tailors.

The founder of our story, Hiero Sow, was born in the late 19th century into a family where weaving was passed down from generation to generation. From his mother, he received both the talent and the training needed to weave in turn. He learned by watching and meticulously repeating ancestral gestures.

When he came of age, he took over the family business. He personally handled the sale of much of his production, traveling alone across the vast expanses separating him from the markets. With each journey, business flourished and his reputation began to grow.

The quality of his work and his mastery of fine materials earned him requests from village chiefs for weddings and other traditional celebrations. Little by little, he was introduced to high dignitaries, and the young tailor even received commissions from men and women of Queen Taitu of Ethiopia’s court. This prestigious request presented a true challenge in terms of adornment and ornamentation. It pushed him to perfect his techniques and firmly establish his style. It marked the pinnacle of his career, earning recognition from the most influential — and most demanding — figures of his time.

Beyond the lasting growth he brought to the family business, Hiero left his descendants a legend surrounding his travels.

A meeting, improbable to say the least, subtly marked the artisan’s path. No one knows where it came from, but just as he was about to close a sale, a handful of cowries were offered to our merchant as payment. These are small shells from India, split like coffee beans. “Kaparda! … Kaparda!” a young foreign woman whispered in his ear. Before he could even lift his head, the veiled figure — who had come to buy his cotton pieces — had already vanished into the crowded market. Was it a dream? A trick of his imagination? Yet in the palm of his hand, the small porcelain shells were there, tangible proof that the event had truly happened.

Though disconcerted at the time, Hiero enjoyed retelling the scene and recalling the strange impression left by this fleeting exchange. The mysterious aura of this encounter meant he never forgot the word spoken that day — and it is in his memory that our House bears the name Kaparda.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Since then, every new Kaparda collection quietly bears witness to this story, echoing in its theme or in some of its details — a moment, a fact, or even just a sign — drawn from the experience and legendary life of its ancestor[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]