Shaina Mote grew up with a mother who rescued horses and a father who rescued trees. As an arborist, or “tree surgeon,” her dad’s job was to dig up, re-plant, and protect them from destruction; at one point, he stopped a developer from cutting down a 400-ton oak, apparently the largest tree on the planet.
A respect for the earth—and an understanding of how long things can last if they’re properly cared for—is naturally embedded in Mote’s work as a designer. She launched her line of serene, no-frills essentials in 2011, presaging fashion’s minimalist movement and endorsing values like timelessness, simplicity, and longevity before they were trendy. A high school job in a luxury consignment shop had introduced her to the enduring work of Prada, Donna Karan, and Jil Sander; later, a position at a fast fashion company offered a glimpse of the opposite: constant newness, disposability, cheap materials.
Mote has spent the last 10 years growing her label with a vision of trend-resistant, thoughtful clothing to keep for decades. Her collection stood next to The Row and Yohji Yamamoto at Barneys and Totokaelo before both stores shuttered, and its quiet aesthetic, neutral tones, and fine details earned Mote a cult following in Japan. With each season, more retailers came calling, and by 2019, business was booming. But Mote and her small team were struggling behind the scenes; the relentless pace and demand for more collections, more styles, and more exclusives was becoming untenable—a feeling familiar to many independent designers.
“For the past two years, I’ve felt a little pushed around by the industry,” Mote admits. “I was designing 100-piece collections three times a year, and maybe half of it would get produced. With how fast the cycle has gotten, I didn’t have time to be as thoughtful or deliberate about my choices, and I felt like I was getting away from my core values. As I was coming up on 10 years in business, I had this moment where I said, what am I doing here? What is my purpose? What am I adding to society, and how can I do my job better?”
The answer was to press pause—she hasn’t shown a new collection since February 2020—and double down on sustainability (though that word doesn’t actually appear anywhere on her website, not even on her new “Approach” page detailing how the clothes are made). Mote was prioritizing organic materials and trend-proof designs from the start, the same credentials many of her peers might call “sustainable luxury,” but she realized that didn’t go nearly far enough. She had no way of knowing the entire journey of her garments or fabrics, nor could she calculate their carbon emissions, and while she gave her manufacturers strict codes of conduct, she had zero visibility into how people or animals were really being treated. “I couldn’t say with honesty that I knew this is sustainable or ethical,” Mote said. So she found someone who could: Kristine Kim, a value chain specialist Mote knew through a friend. She hired her to dig into her supply chain, highlight the blind spots, and push her factories for more information.