"The Horses" are our signature design for 2022

I manage to release one new pattern per year. There are always about 150 ideas, but eventually, one theme matures from the sketches I’ve collected. Suddenly, I can see the colors and the overall feeling of the fabric in my mind. That is the moment we start creating. Last year it was "Autumn Flower," where Luigi (the graphic designer) and I composed bouquets from beautiful autumn leaves and treats. The beauty of rich, darker autumn colors resonates deeply with me, as do the wildflowers surrounding golden fields in the middle of summer. It is an almost manic state where my mind is completely consumed by it, and I experience the beauty of what I see with full intensity.

Would you like me to translate any further sections or perhaps help you organize these texts into a structured document?

My natural reaction is to pick up a pencil and a sketchbook and draw at least small fragments—the most gracefully bent leaves that occasionally fade into the light. They flicker like life, like our own slice of time. They are there and then gone again, never looking exactly the same for even a moment. This is how the previous pattern, "Meadow," was born—fluttering blossoms that line field paths and wave in the meadows of our landscape. The very first pattern, "Slovácko," originated as a collection of illustrations I made in Moravia over a longer period, mostly during the festival season. Our original patterns also include "Little Flower," "Cobalt Stripe," and "Large Check," much like the patterns traditionally found on the fabrics of folk clothing or dwellings.

"Horses" is my next theme, one I could no longer resist. The small ones you see in groups on the pattern are the "blondies" I see near Mácha Lake. They wander and sit in groups, creating an infinite number of perfect compositions. And the large ones—that represents a wildness I also carry within me, beautifully demonstrated by the run of horses, the movement of muscles and manes :)) There is so much fascinating beauty all around us. It is typical for Czech folk clothing that it was sewn from whatever fabrics were available. They were imported from everywhere; patterns were not regional and did not thematically relate to the landscape. It was only the embellishments, such as embroidery, ornaments, or even blueprint patterns, that held a local character. On folk clothing over half a century old, besides flowers, stripes, and checks, we can find Oriental or animal motifs. While the cut of the garments hardly differed among women in a village, the fabric provided an opportunity for uniqueness and an expression of taste. And while at Tradice we push these cuts into the contemporary daily life of both the countryside and the city, our patterns connect you with the landscape just beyond your window or at the edge of the village.

Would you like me to translate any further sections or perhaps help you organize these texts into a structured document?

Yours Zuzana