Finding the Right Fit: A Behind-the-Scenes Hoodie Story

If there’s one part of this journey that didn’t feel visible—but mattered just as much as the designs—it was finding the right partner to actually bring these hoodies to life.

From the outside, it might look simple: you design something, you upload it, and it gets made.

That wasn’t my experience.

It was trial and error.

I placed my first batch order, full of anticipation. When it arrived, I opened it with excitement… and quickly realized it wasn’t quite right.

Maybe it was the print quality.

Maybe it was the fabric.

Maybe it was the way the design sat on the garment.

Maybe it was the rampant factory smell wreaking from the garment even after a heavy wash and dry cycle.

Nothing was wrong, exactly—it just didn’t feel aligned with the care and intention we had put into the designs as well as what I valued when it came to climate action and sustainability.

So I tried again with a different product—I even printed all the Lunar New Year Greetings collection of hoodies only on white fabric even though I really only wanted the yellow against red to ring in more of the festive spirit of the Chinese New Year.

The second batch was closer to my expectation.

This batch didn’t wreak of the factory smell as much. We could see improvement. We could feel that we were getting warmer. Still, something was amiss with the typography and coloring. At that point, it would have been easy to settle—to say, “this is good enough.”

I sat with the order for a few days before I was willing to admit that I was not satisfied. Something in me resisted letting the nagging feeling go away. If these hoodies were going to carry meaning—for my kids, for our story, for the people who might eventually wear them—then “good enough” wasn’t enough.

So I tried one more time to get it right. I went for what I really wanted—looking for sustainable practices throughout the production process, looking for a product that came in colors that I wanted all of my collections to be printed on. Yes, I had to spend hours again to get the designs right and ready yet again for another supplier.

The third batch arrived.

Before I even opened the package, I realized what day it was.

It was the memorial day of Josei Toda.

I paused for a moment.

Because if you practice Nichiren Buddhism, you begin to notice these kinds of moments—not as coincidence, but as something… aligned. Timely. Almost like a quiet affirmation.

And when I opened that third batch, everything clicked.

The quality.

The feel.

The smell.

The way the designs came through.

It was right.

What made it even more meaningful was what had arrived that day.

Among that third batch were the designs centered on renge—with “winter always turns to spring” on the back—and ichinen—paired with “change karma into mission.”

Alongside them, the entire Lunar New Year Greetings collection arrived as well—福 (fortune), 喜 (joy), 春 (spring), 勝 (victory), and 毅 (perseverance)—each carrying its own blessing, each representing a state of being we move through as we live, grow, and begin again.

It felt like an abundance of intention arriving all at once.

Blessings to receive.

Joy to feel.

Renewal to step into.

Victory to strive toward.

Perseverance to sustain it all — and ultimately flourish.

Both the Buddhist designs and the Lunar New Year pieces speak, in their own ways, to transformation.

And on that particular day, they felt especially fitting.

Josei Toda held a profound wish: to rid the world of misery.

It’s a vast, almost unimaginable aspiration he had for each and every one of us to break through our suffering and enjoy life.

In Nichiren Buddhism, that kind of change doesn’t begin “out there.” It begins within—through the transformation of one’s own life, one’s own perspective, one’s own actions. We can achieve this state of life…

Through ichinen—one’s inner determination.

Through renge—the understanding of cause and effect, that even in the depths of winter, spring is already contained within.

Only through that process, can we truly enjoy the gifts of spring, the fresh beginnings, the Lunar New Year’s tidings.

Looking back, the process of finding the right supplier mirrored that very principle of putting determination into action in the midst of winter while expecting a flourishing spring.

• The first attempt didn’t quite land.
• The second showed signs of progress.
• The third—through persistence, intention, and refusal to settle—came into alignment.

It wasn’t instant. It wasn’t perfect. It was a process of transforming something step by step until it reflected what we truly intended.

That’s what made that third delivery feel like more than just a successful order.

It felt like a small, tangible expression of something much larger:

That when we continue to take action—grounded in purpose, guided by care—things begin to shift.

That what doesn’t work at first isn’t failure—it’s part of the path.

That persistence, when rooted in meaning, eventually finds its form.

Now, when I look at the hoodies—the weight of the fabric, the clarity of the print, the way the designs sit, the knowledge that sustainable practices went into making it—I don’t just see the final product.

I see the process behind it.

The decisions.

The patience.

The willingness to try again.

And maybe that’s what makes it feel complete.

Not that it came out perfectly the first time—but that it didn’t.

That we stayed with it.

That we refined it.

That we kept going until it aligned.

Because in the end, this was never just about finding a supplier.

It was about making something with intention—and honoring that intention all the way through.