Look closer.
I have always been drawn to the artifacts that others overlook.
A discarded necktie. A namesake brooch. Paper scraps bearing faded signatures. A vintage timepiece with a commemorative seal. My focus shifts immediately to the hidden details—the stories that aren’t visible at first glance.
My reaction is consistent: I am driven to investigate.
This innate curiosity led me through world of antique sourcing and deep archival research, eventually forming the foundation of Wearing History. I am fascinated by what an object can evolve into without stripping away the identity it already holds.
Clothing taught me something early.
As a young student, I finally qualified for a letterman jacket but my family was unable to buy one. Even then, I realized that a garment was never just fabric; it was a symbol of belonging and visible proof of a milestone.
I couldn't articulate that emotional weight at twelve years old, but I hold it as a core truth today. What we wear shapes our self-perception and how we project ourselves to the world. I view textiles not by their market price, but by the narratives they carry and the transformations they await.
Curiosity is usually where the work begins.
While I trade in vintage items, the investigation often outweighs the commerce for me. A single piece of ephemera becomes a gateway to tracing a family lineage. A corporate gift from decades ago sparks a deep dive into regional industrial evolution. I find joy in the pursuit of knowledge itself, whether I’m researching manufacturing dates of a teapot or learning the intricacies of beekeeping. Starting from a place of not knowing is my favorite creative state.
Burkdoll Studios grew from that same instinct.
When a unique textile enters my studio, I don't see a finished product; I see a series of questions. I look for the maker and the era. I weigh the balance between preservation and recreation. Sometimes, a vintage menswear staple is reimagined into a structural accessory for women. Often, the most profound choice I make is deciding which elements must remain untouched. The goal is to weave the past directly into the modern silhouette.
My background is not in fashion.
My professional life has been rooted in criminal justice, organizational behavior, and instructional design. These fields inform every stitch and strategy at Wearing History. Strategy helps me define value, while organizational behavior helps me understand the identity we forge through objects. I use instructional design to narrate the history of a piece clearly, and technology to bridge the gap between archival data and physical design. Context changes everything—in life, and in art.
Brooch of the Day is part of the story too.
I launched Brooch of the Day as a way to share historical trivia and small moments of joy. Their monetary value is secondary to the conversations they start. Today, those small treasures often find their way into my larger textile compositions. When a brooch is integrated into a new piece, it doesn't lose its history; it adds a new chapter.
Technology is a tool. The making remains human.
While I leverage artificial intelligence for research and conceptual visualization, it never replaces the hand-crafted nature of my work. I am the one who sources the materials, handles the weight of the fabric, and makes the final cuts. Technology can broaden the reach of my curiosity, but the human eye provides the ultimate judgment in the studio.
I want the history to travel with the piece.
Every significant creation at Wearing History is archived. We document the source textiles, provide certificates of authenticity, and research every verifiable fact. If a history is lost, I leave it as an honest mystery rather than inventing a fiction. My hope is that decades from now, a collector can look at one of my pieces and understand exactly where it began and why it was worth saving.
That may be the thread connecting everything I do.
From antiques and rare brooches to complex textile reconstruction, the motivation is identical: I want to look closer at what has been forgotten. I believe that an ordinary item is just a story waiting for the right question to be asked. At Wearing History, we are just getting started on the next chapter.
Jennifer Burkdoll