"I choose garments for their emotional resonance and character. To feel powerful, free and unapologetic."

Fashion designer, vintage curator Sofia Moiraghi Casanova in a black and white editorial shot in Amsterdam, The Netherlands.

My Story

I’ve been creating for as long as I can remember, lemonade stands and flower bouquets in Tafi del Valle, handmade bracelets and headbands on hot summer afternoons. Those early ventures were not about money; they were about making something and sharing it. That spirit carried me through a fashion design degree in Buenos Aires, pandemic mask‑making, and collaborative projects with friends. Each step taught me to craft with integrity, to use what exists, and to trust my intuition.

In 2022 I left Argentina, determined to confront myself and expand beyond familiar patterns. Here, in the city of freedom and diversity, I began the deep work of rediscovering who I am and what I have to offer. YEYEY grew from that search, a project that brings together my love of design, my entrepreneurial heart, and a belief that clothing can be a tool for self‑liberation

The brand's name comes from my earliest memory of self‑naming. When family asked “What’s your name?” I would answer “Yeyey” before I could pronounce the name given to me. It’s the name I chose for myself and it still feels true. This brand is likewise a choice, to name myself on my own terms and invite others to do the same.

Amsterdam reshaped me. The city’s openness and diversity allowed me to shed inherited expectations and reconnect with my own desires. It balances big‑city energy with a slower pace, giving space to breathe and explore. Vintage stores and markets have been part of this city's fashion scene for decades, and the recent rise of curated vintage resonates with my approach: a focused selection for people who crave unique garments but lack the time to sift through endless racks. This city taught me that freedom and community can coexist, and that informed the brand's cadence and collaborative vision.

This is more than a vintage store.

It's a space for people who don't dress to be approved of. Artists, writers, designers, musicians, curious minds, people who create, question, and inspire each other. That's who I'm building this for.

The dream is a physical place in Amsterdam. Not just a store, a studio, a meeting point, somewhere for workshops, conversations, and things that haven't been planned yet. Until then, the Journal and our events hold that space, online and in pop-ups.