For small wild ones.

There is a particular kind of afternoon — long and unhurried, the grass still warm, the light going golden at the edges. A child runs ahead. You can just see the back of her dress disappearing into the meadow.

That is the afternoon we make for.

How it began

Tinywild & Co. started with a simple frustration — children's clothes that were either too precious to wear or too disposable to keep. Synthetic fabrics that scratched. Prints that dated in a season. Sizing that gave up on the child by the time she'd grown into it.

We wanted something different. Clothes that could go to a christening on Saturday and back into the garden on Sunday. Clothes that washed softer with every wear. Clothes worth handing down.

What we make

Each piece is made in small batches from 100% cotton — soft, breathable, kind to sensitive skin, and honest about what it's made of. We name every garment for a wildflower: the Peony, the Buttercup, the Forget-me-not. Not because it sounds charming — because wildflowers are generous, unhurried, and built to last the season.

The cuts are generous too. A slim two-year-old and a tall seven-year-old can wear the same dress. Room to run. Room to grow.

How we work

We work in drops — small, considered collections tied to the season. Meadow Tales is our first: dresses for high summer, cut for the longest, greenest afternoons. When the meadow's gone, it's gone. We don't restock endlessly — we make carefully, and move on.

Every order is folded by hand, wrapped in terracotta tissue, and tied with twine. A small thing — but it matters to us that it arrives as something worth opening.

Who it's for

Girls from one to ten. Children with sensitive skin that frets at anything rough. Mothers who are tired of buying things twice. Grandmothers looking for a gift that will be remembered. Anyone who believes that a child's clothes should be as good as the child wearing them.

— for small wild ones.

Letters from the meadow

We write occasionally — when a new drop is ready, when a size comes back, when there is something worth saying. No noise. Just a letter, when the meadow opens.