Michelle grew up in her grandmother's knitwear, absorbing an eye for fine fabric and classic style the way some people absorb a native language, without ever quite realizing it was happening. She spent thirty-five years building a career in finance, and quietly spent just as many years being an artist on the side: painting at her grandfather's easel, dabbling in bridal design, decorating other people's homes when her own creative instincts needed somewhere to go.

Her niece Caitlan came to it sideways as well. Dress-up in a great-grandmother's closet as a child. A great-grandfather's wilderness paintings that shaped her taste more than she realized at the time.

Neither of them set out to relaunch a knitwear label. And yet, here they are: Michelle back on the train into the city, no longer clocking in for someone else's nine-to-five, but wandering the garment district for the finest fabric and notions, and stopping by the family's knitwear partner in Brooklyn. Caitlan, an ocean away, folding in the creative chapter she'd been circling for years.

Two women, one family, and a label finally called by its true name: Agnes Piersanti.