We are Jenny and Tonio.
Laya didn’t start as a company we set out to build. It grew slowly, out of how we move through the world and what we pay attention to along the way.
Tonio comes from a background in startups and software engineering. He’s spent years building digital products, designing architectures, and learning how ideas turn into something real and sustainable over time. Jenny’s background is in branding, design and journalism — telling stories, shaping meaning, and understanding how people connect to what they wear and use every day.
Together, we’ve spent years traveling. Not rushing from place to place, but staying long enough to notice details. We’re drawn to local customs, everyday rituals, and the quiet things that define a culture beyond what’s obvious. One thing we kept coming back to, again and again, was fabric.
In different parts of the world, we noticed how textiles are used — not just as fashion, but as tools for daily life. Scarves worn for warmth, for sun protection, for ceremony. Linen clothing chosen because it works with the climate. Pieces that age, soften, and become personal over time.
Almost without trying, we started collecting these things. Scarves from markets. Woven fabrics from small shops. Clothing we didn’t buy for trends, but because it felt right. Many of these pieces traveled with us for years, becoming part of our daily lives — something familiar, grounding, and practical wherever we were.
That’s where our conviction comes from.
Laya is rooted in a personal respect for fabrics and the cultures that shape them. We’re fascinated by how materials carry knowledge — about climate, movement, tradition, and care. And we believe that when something is made well, with intention, it doesn’t need to be explained or overdesigned. It simply works.
Our work is about honoring that idea. Creating pieces that feel natural to wear, that adapt to different places and moments, and that connect you — quietly — to the people and traditions behind them.
Laya is not about following fashion cycles. It’s about living with objects that make sense, that last, and that carry a story without needing to shout.
That’s what we’ve always looked for in our travels.
And it’s what we’re building here.
