MIMO STORY

 I grew up in a home where yarn was always part of life.
As a child, I followed behind my mother, helping her sort through tangled balls of wool.
There were no tools then—just small arms stretched wide, with yarn looped round and round.
Aunties often gathered together, chatting and laughing as they crocheted sweaters for their parents, husbands, and children.
I grew up in the long, trailing ends of yarn.

the time I was in middle school, I began crocheting too—scarves, hats—just like my mother.
Some I gave to close friends, some to the ones I quietly liked.
And one I gave to my mother, who had always made things for everyone else but never crocheted a sweater for herself.

As time passed, machine-made products took over.
The warmth of handmade things was slowly buried.
I entered society like everyone else—repeating the same days, growing tired, restless.
But in those colorless, anxious times, I picked up crochet again.
It wasn’t just a skill—it was a light.

I began blending new visual ideas into micro crochet, creating small, inspired accessories full of life.

Through that, I met fellow makers and kindred spirits.
To me, handcraft is a kind of quiet healing.
In the act of crocheting, we can step away from noise and stress, focus inward, and feel a sense of calm and meaning.
It reminds us that we’re capable of making something with our own hands—and that what we make holds value.

So I started MIMO.
Not only to pass on the warmth of handmade work,
but also to walk alongside those who want to learn micro crochet,
so this world of thread and hook can keep going.

When a bundle of yarn becomes a flower, a fruit, an earring or brooch—
and reaches someone who truly loves it—
the feeling is beyond words.

A flower blooms quietly on someone’s ear,
a tiny fruit shares its fragrance near the heart.

May you and I both find that thread of light—
even in the most ordinary of days.