Fashion and sewing had always been a part of my life: one grandmother was a buyer for JC Penney and taught me to love clothing and fashion while I sat with her, choosing what would be in the store. My other grandmother, along with my mom, taught me sewing basics while we worked on costumes and patching jeans and flannel shirts. My dad is a sewing machine technician and engineer, as is my uncle and was my grandfather. I made many a trip to Hoffman Brothers and loved watching computerized embroidery machines painting pictures with threads like an artist with a brush, smelling the mineral oil that keeps the machines running smooth, and listening to whirring sound of the motors completing 2,200 stitches per minute. I watched my dad travel to Japan and China to talk about the machines he created for industrial sewing and sit in his workshop putting together the circuit boards to run his patented machines.

I wanted a career in fashion and sewing, but like many impressionable teenagers, I allowed myself to be steered towards teaching. I graduated with a BA in English and went off to teach high school. I taught for five years and loved being in a classroom and working with students, but hated every other part of it. I tried to keep my creativity alive by volunteering to work on costumes for musicals and occasionally sewing upon request when a friend would ask. A very close and dear friend taught me to knit, and I started making hats and scarves because I could take knitting to meetings and in the car, and I could sit on the couch and watch TV--all of which is significantly more difficult with a sewing machine. When my husband and I welcomed our daughter into the world, I left teaching and became a stay-at-home mom. When we welcomed our son into the world, we became a house full of gingers, and Gingerland was dubbed.

Knowing I did not want to return to the classroom, I went back to my roots and to what has always made me happy: creating and making. I kept knitting, and I started making clothes for my kids as well as decorative items for our home. Then, I branched out and started making some simple things for myself. I also started working a part-time job to finance my expensive fiber habit.

The office was COLD. ALWAYS. I would always wear a herringbone knit infinity scarf that I had made from a luxurious wool/alpaca blend to keep me warm. I had made it longer and wider than the pattern had said because I wanted to wrap myself in it. The women I worked with loved that scarf, too, and if I took it off for any reason, it was gone. I would find it later, naturally draped around the neck of one of my coworkers as though it just landed there ("But it's sooooo warm and soft!!!"), but the main culprit was my boss. Last Christmas, I decided to make her something similar with wool fabric (because I was NOT going to spend THAT much time knitting another one of those scarves--it was hard). She loved it. I made another one, but with faux fur and madras for my "ride or die." She loved it. I had fabric leftover from both, so I made myself one of each so I could stop wearing the same scarf EVERY day. I was warm every day, I looked trendy and stylish with very little effort, and every woman with whom I shared a conversation asked about them. I bought more wool, more knits, more faux fur, and started experimenting.

Then one of my boss' cousins requested a masculine scarf, and I delivered...my boss' friend wanted one for her daughter...my boss' friend wanted one for herself...then the questions during the summer about whether I would be making them again, and that I should try to sell them...It was at that job that jaclyn faye began.

The Infinity Scarves/Circle Scarves/Cowls/Wraps I make are oversized: extra long and extra wide so that you can wear them a variety of ways, and I choose each and every piece of fabric that goes into each piece, making limited quantities with each fabric because everyone deserves to own something special and unique. I am inspired by the seasons and the weather, choosing wools and plaid flannels in the fall and winter and cotton voiles, silks, shirtings, and laces in the spring and summer, and the color pallet changes accordingly. I especially love to take masculine fabrics-mens' suitings and mens' shirtings-and use classic silhouettes and feminine design elements to dress the woman who is put-together, trendy, classic, and powerful and looks high-end while maintaining a level of functionality and practicality. I carefully pair fabrics for wearability, practicality, versatility, and style, and conscientiously produce each piece to be durable and to last. You are receiving a unique, high-quality piece that will get you noticed whether you're looking chic at the office, chasing your kids at the park, going out on the town, or attending a school play. Everyday glamour.