Over the years, we’ve released collections that I’d spent countless hours thinking about, well before they came to life. Collections like “Women’s Work,” our tribute to women artisans around the world and through the ages, or “Kimono,” the culmination of my own lifelong admiration for the Japanese textile tradition. These collections had lived inside my head long before we brought them into the world, and represented years of foresight, research, and inspiration.

Our newest collection, on the other hand, came together thanks to an experience any creative individual will recognize: an exciting leap down a serendipitous rabbit hole.

The moment I laid eyes on the beautiful cover of “Oceania: The Shape of Time,” by Maia Nuku, my curiosity was piqued. Prior to reading the book, I knew very little about Oceania, the vast collection of islands in the Southern Pacific that some consider the eighth continent. Oceania’s textile tradition is informed by its own geography. With limited land on which to cultivate the kinds of fibers we’re familiar with, like cotton or wool, Oceania’s artisans instead worked with what they had, constructing woven textiles mostly from leaves and bark.

For us, “Oceania,” which we launched at this year’s BD|NY in November, took us into unknown territory. Working on this collection was unlike any other project we’ve done before, from the resource materials to the neutral color palette (especially challenging for me, a person who loves to go for every crayon in the box). I’ll admit it felt a bit like designing with one hand behind our backs, but such a limited palette really forced us to focus all of our creative attention on the patterns themselves.

Fortunately for us, Oceania — its cultures and its landscapes — is rife with inspiration. From its bodies of water to its wildlife, from coral and shells to wood and bamboo, the flora, fauna, and rituals of these island nations inspired us just as they did its artisans. Here are a few of the patterns included in the collection, along with their references:

• Jukoli, based on an engraved shell from Australia
• Salaslasi (“waist cloth”) and Ficus, referencing bark cloths
• Sarita, based on a ceremonial Sulawesi carving
• Jakoli, inspired a wood and bamboo platter
• Sago, from a platter of wood and bamboo from West Papua
• Butu, a ceremonial skirt of cotton, glass beads and shells
• Fire Drawing from Aboriginal legends, and Wild Potato from their “yam design”
• And “Dance Paddle,” the first pattern we designed for the collection, an homage to the cover of the book that first sent me down this rabbit hole.

These creative constraints and new-to-me aesthetic traditions came together in a richly fulfilling opportunity for learning and creative experimentation. We hope it sparks your creativity, too.