How we make
Most brands have a sustainability page full of words like "conscious" and "considered." This isn't that. This is what we actually know, what we're still figuring out, and where we're honest about the gaps.
Who makes Lohi
Every garment in the Lohi range is designed and sewn by Tania Murray Haigh in the studio at 8 Charlemont Street, Ranfurly. Tania cuts, sews, and finishes each piece herself. When demand grows beyond what one person can make, we work with trusted local makers in the region — people we know, paid fairly, working close to home.
We make in small runs on purpose. Not as a marketing tactic — because it's the only way to make things with genuine attention. When a run sells out, it's gone. The next batch will be cut from a different deadstock fabric. Same pattern, different cloth, different character.
Where our fabric comes from
We use deadstock linen — fabric that already exists in the world.
Deadstock is surplus fabric from mills and manufacturers that would otherwise sit in a warehouse until it becomes waste. We source ours through a New Zealand-based fabric specialist who travels through Europe and Southeast Asia to find and secure these surplus rolls. He has longstanding relationships with family-run mills and established fabric houses — people who care about what they produce.
Every roll has a story. The mills and houses our fabric comes from have been doing this for generations. Our job is to make sure what they produce becomes something worth keeping.
We are deliberate about where our fabric originates. Our sourcing reflects the values of the people who wear Lohi — and our own. We don't advertise the specifics, but we stand behind every choice we make.
When we know more about a specific fabric's origin we'll say so. When we don't, we'll say that too.
What linen actually is — and why we can't use New Zealand flax
This surprises almost everyone.
Linen comes from the flax plant — but not New Zealand's native flax. Our harakeke (Phormium tenax) is a completely different plant to linen flax (Linum usitatissimum). They share a common name in New Zealand but that's where the similarity ends.
When Captain Cook and botanist Joseph Banks arrived in New Zealand in 1769, they saw Māori wearing finely woven garments from harakeke that resembled European linen. Linen comes from flax, so they called it "New Zealand flax" — and the name stuck for 250 years. The confusion has never fully resolved.
Harakeke produces strong, coarse fibres — extraordinary for rope, weaving, and the traditional purposes Māori have used it for centuries. It's a taonga. But its fibres are too coarse and too short to spin into the fine thread needed for woven linen fabric. You cannot make a linen shirt from harakeke.
Linen flax — Linum usitatissimum — is a different plant entirely. An annual crop, planted in spring, grown in temperate climates, harvested in summer. The fibres come from the stem. The whole plant is used: seeds become linseed oil, fibres become linen, plant matter returns to the soil. True zero waste — before zero waste was a concept.
New Zealand grew linen flax at scale — within living memory
In 1936, trials began at Lincoln. By 1939, semi-commercial production had started in Canterbury. Then the war changed everything.
Britain needed linen urgently — for the fuselage and wing fabric of Mosquito fighters and Wellington bombers, for fire hoses, for parachute webbing. The Netherlands and Belgium, Europe's linen heartland, had fallen to Germany.
New Zealand answered. Seventeen factories were built across the South Island — eight in Canterbury, four in Southland, three in Otago, two in Marlborough. The paddocks of blue linen flowers became a feature of the South Island landscape through the 1940s.
When machines weren't available at harvest time in Gore, 500 volunteers — men, women and children — pulled 100 acres of linen flax by hand over 10 days, working dawn to dusk to beat the snow.
The last factory, at Geraldine, closed in 1977. Within living memory.
Researchers who studied where linen flax grew best in New Zealand concluded that the clay loam downs of North Canterbury and parts of Otago and Southland were the most suitable. That is our landscape.
The story isn't over
A grower in Canterbury harvested their first crop of linen flax in 2025 — the first commercial harvest in New Zealand in decades. The processing infrastructure doesn't exist here yet. But the knowledge is there, the seed is there, and the land is there.
If a New Zealand linen supply chain develops in our lifetime, we want to be part of it from the beginning. Linen grown in the shadow of the same ranges where Tania cuts it — that's the version of this story we'd love to tell.
Until then, we use what already exists responsibly. Deadstock linen from family-run mills in Europe, sourced by people who care about what they produce.
What we charge and why
A Lohi piece costs more than a fast fashion equivalent. Here's why.
- Tania's timeBuilt into every price. She cuts, sews, and finishes each piece by hand.
- Fabric costDeadstock linen sourced responsibly from European mills costs more than bulk commodity fabric.
- Small run premiumMaking in small runs means no economies of scale. That's a deliberate choice, not a limitation.
- GSTIncluded in every price. What you see is what you pay.
We're not trying to compete with brands that make thousands of units in offshore factories. We're trying to make things worth owning — and price them honestly.
What we're still working on
We don't have formal certifications yet — no GOTS, no OEKO-TEX, no B Corp. These take time and money and we're being honest about where we are.
We don't always know the full provenance of every deadstock fabric before it reaches us. We're working to know more.
We're a new business growing deliberately in a small town. We're learning as we go. We'll update this page as things change — and we'll tell you when they do.
First Cut — early access to new runs
Slow Post subscribers get access to new runs 48 hours before they go public online. When a new batch is ready, Tania sends a letter. No urgency tactics — just the information that something new is available and the chance to get it first.
Join The Slow Post →If you want to know something specific about how we make, where our fabric comes from, or what goes into a Lohi piece — email tania@lohilinen.com. She made it and she'll tell you.