The Paths That Led Here
Following the Call
David grew up in Southern California. He had never seen a working farm, let alone imagined operating one.
But he felt called to Pennsylvania—to play lacrosse at a school with an uncommon focus on service. He studied mathematics. He played his sport. But as graduation approached, the unease grew stronger. The direction the world was heading felt wrong. Hollow. He wanted to do something that mattered in a way you could touch.
That search led him to food procurement work in Philadelphia—getting fresh food to people who needed it. Which naturally led him to the farms in and around the city. Which led him to young farmers who shared a devastating reality: arable land disappearing to development, skilled stewards aging out with no one to replace them, and young people who desperately wanted to farm but faced impossible barriers to entry.
Most people would have been discouraged. David was inspired
He followed the call again.
Through what can only be described as serendipitous events, he got his chance. Not just to farm—to preserve 131 acres of pristine Pennsylvania soil, forest, and waterways that were about to be lost. The odds were stacked against him. Young, unproven, asking to steward land that had been in one family for generations.
It took two miraculous meetings. And even more miracles getting to those meetings in the first place. David was offered a scholarship to attend the Pennsylvania Association of Sustainable Agriculture conference, but had no car and no money for a place to stay 3 hours away from his residence. As soon as the scholarship was confirmed, his phone rang immediately after hanging up with the scholarship organizers and someone asked if he was planning to attend the conference and if he needed a place to stay and a ride. All in exchange for working the Young Farmer’s table for one session during the three day conference.
Enter Alfred:
During his scheduled tabling session nobody was in the showroom, and he was all alone until one man came up and introduced himself as the owner of a 131 acre property that had been out of commission for around 60 years. He vaguely explained the unique proposition and David took down his information. It was too good to be true and David had no experience at this point. Saddened but inspired he returned home and signed up for an apprenticeship to keep the momentum rolling.
Two years in a row: The following year David returned to the same conference but as the first state registered Diversified Vegetable Apprentice. During the last session of the 3 day event David was led by a friend into a workshop where Alfred happened to be. The friend chose to sit right next to him, and during a discussion session Alfred turned to the two young men and said the same proposition he had the previous year. David asked for a meeting and two weeks later they met at the farm and began the transition. Alfred admitted later that he was in the process of adopting a 5 year old granddaughter that was forcing his hand to end his long search for a young farmer to be the next steward of the land. So, imagine, at the last possible minute before the property would go to auction, this conversation changed everything. The family that had kept the farm for generations chose to trust David with their legacy rather than sell to the highest bidder.
David's relentless focus on organic practice, his willingness to sacrifice the clear, comfortable career path his education could have provided, his refusal to compromise on regenerative principles even when it would have been easier—it all paid off in that moment.
He was given stewardship of land that hadn't been farmed in sixty years. A dormant farm, waiting.
The Convergence
Anne's path wound through the world's fashion capitals. She trained at FIT New York, Polimoda Firenze, and Politecnico di Milano—studying knitwear design and high fashion at institutions that shape the industry. What drew her to knitwear wasn't trend—it was the craft’s inherent sustainability and unlimited creativity. She learned of how an entire garment could be created with a single thread, no need to cut or waste fabric and that every garment could be something unique with unlimited stitch, texture, and shapes to create.
After training, she didn't follow the expected trajector, she took a pause from the fashion world to teach yoga, practicing Thai bodywork. During this formative time she explored what fashion schools don't teach—presence, intention, the spiritual dimensions of making things with your hands. She eventually returned to corporate fashion, designing menswear, but the deeper questions remained unanswered.
The craft was there. The training was there. But the context for what her hands were meant to make? That was missing.
Then COVID shut down the world.
And in the stillness of lockdown, David and Anne met.
When David saw Anne's portfolio—the mastery she'd built, the Italian precision, the proprietary techniques developed over years of dedicated practice—he recognized what was presenting. Something so rare it couldn't be planned. A chance to integrate world-class fashion design with regenerative agriculture. To create garments with complete provenance. To prove that luxury could be built on restoration instead of extraction.
Anne saw land that could finally hold the vision her training had prepared her for. A flock she could name. Soil she could tend. A place where craft could exist in its intended form, not compromised by industrial timelines or profit margins that demand shortcuts.
Together, they began the work of restoring what had been silent for six decades.
What We're Building
David brought his understanding of living systems—soil biology, rotational grazing learned from Pennsylvania's legendary farmers (working double-time on weekends and through winters to gain that knowledge), the patient work of building fertility year by year.
Anne brought Italian design rigor and knitwear mastery that few in the world possess—techniques refined over years of training and practice, now applied to wool from sheep grazing the land she helps steward.
What emerged transcends the sum of their individual journeys.
High fashion that begins with pasture management and an intimate bond with the sheep as co-creators. Whole-plant products crafted with the same precision Anne applies to garment construction. A farm that proves stewardship and sophistication aren't opposites—they're partners.
David's path from Southern California lacrosse player to Pennsylvania farmer preserving generational land wasn't direct. Anne's journey from New York and Milan's fashion worlds to a farm in rural Pennsylvania wasn't predictable.
But when you follow the call—when you refuse the comfortable path in favor of the True one—sometimes the universe conspires to put the right people in the right place at exactly the right time.
This is not a hobby farm. This is not a lifestyle brand.
This is what happens when two people trained in seemingly unrelated disciplines both say yes to something larger than themselves. When preservation of legacy farmland meets world-class design. When the loss of one generation's stewards creates space for the next generation to reimagine what farming can be.
This is the patient work of building something that will outlast us—and honoring what came before us.