I was born on a small island in Hawaiʻi, in the middle of the vast Pacific, surrounded by sun, saltwater, and the deep green jungle. This is where my story begins.

My sister and I were raised by free-thinking, dream-seeking parents who believed life was meant to be explored. Much of our childhood was spent in the backseat of a ’76 Bronco, Stevie Nicks playing on cassette, traveling from place to place in search of something that felt like home.

We lived all across the country, always starting in Hawaiʻi and somehow always finding our way back.

Some years we lived so remotely that my parents chose to homeschool us. Wherever we landed, we built small homesteads — growing gardens, canning vegetables, brewing homemade root beer, and raising chickens.

Our evenings weren’t spent in front of a television, but around the kitchen table eating cinnamon toast and playing cards late into the night.

It was a simple life. A little wild. Often nomadic. But it taught me everything.

I learned how to make things with my hands. How to live close to the land. How to create rather than consume.

Today, Kepola is my way of returning to those values — a slower, more thoughtful approach to clothing.

Pieces meant to be lived in.

Pieces that carry a story.