My story didn’t begin in the ateliers of Paris or the fashion schools of New York. It began in a quiet town in North Western New Mexico. I was raised in a home held together by love, loss and the quiet strength of family.With a absent father, and a mother that was more shadow than presence. Two remarkable people, my grandparents gave me the foundation to dream. My grandmother, the matriarch, was grace personified. Steady hands, a sharp eye and a heart that held everything together.My grandfather, strong, wise and impossibly gentle. He was deeply rooted in family, tradition and honor. When he passed, it left a silence in our family for years. My Aunt stepped in beside my grandmother, to help continue raising me with purpose, with dignity and with love.

Fashion didn’t feel possible then, I never thought I could become a designer. I admired fashion from afar, sketching in notebooks, studying old Hollywood silhouettes and dreaming in silence. In my late teens and early twenties, I modeled, I walked in borrowed clothes and learned how fashion moved, how it breathed. Deep down I wanted to be the one building the dream, not just wearing it.

Now, I design from memory, from heritage passed down from my great grandparents, bold and emotional. My work fuses the sacred symbolism of Navajo heritage with European precision. I want my work to feel cinematic, powerful, Glamorous but never hollow.

I was the boy who didn’t go to fashion school, but dared to dream, and now I’m designing the story I never saw.

My name is Sean Michael…