When Ore Akinde was first graced with the honor of an interview request, she was as prepared as a cat in a dog park. Sure, her stylish tops and cardigans were a refreshing change from the ubiquitous “My money grows like grass” shirts, but when it came to sharing her story, she was tongue-tied. Apparently, knowing your talents doesn’t automatically gift you with charisma—who knew?
“I didn’t have the slightest idea what anyone wanted,” she mused retrospectively. “Diving into this world was like trying to swim in custard—I was still figuring things out.” Initially, she attributed the birth of her business to a breakup, a classic trope of bored women everywhere. Over time, she realized that her true motivation was a desire to help other women look splendid in unique pieces that made their heads turn, not just sticking to crochet as a comforting hobby. Who would’ve thought a man could provide motivation but not the key to entrepreneurial success?
Ore’s early days were spent churning out Ankara tops in college, which quickly revealed two harsh truths: profits resembled the size of her lunch money, and the sizing was a disaster. It didn’t take long for her to pivot back to crochet—her childhood hobby. Under parental financial guidance, she transformed allowance savings into a booming side hustle, proving that sometimes the best things come from frugality and a precarious balancing act between school and creative chaos.
In her quest to become a crochet mogul (because why not?), Ore’s mother voiced her concerns, assuming her daughter was on the fast track to academic ruin. “She was more worried than a grandmother at a punk rock concert,” Ore laughed. “It’s not like our family wasn’t sending money home!” But alas, reality struck hard: Ore was burning the candle at both ends and didn’t even have time to eat. Eventually, mom came to the rescue, offering refunds to her customers, claiming that a business “shouldn’t just be a fun hobby!” Who knew parental intervention could also double as an economic strategy?
Fast forward a few whirlwind years, and this shy crochet student transformed her brand into a full-blown fashion house—after overcoming that inconvenient little thing called self-doubt. By Ore is now known for more than just trendy tops; it promotes an inclusive sizing chart that considers women of all shapes. «Because the last thing anyone needs is to be caught trying to fit into clothes made on wishes and vague measurements,» she quips. In a world where “one size fits all” usually means “closer to one size fits none,” her clothing line is a refreshing escape from the ‘one-size-fits-some’ norm.
“Most Nigerian brands don’t even cater to sizes below 12,” Ore notes, waving off societal fashion faux pas like a seasoned critic. “But not mine, darling. There’s something for everyone.” Suddenly, her clientele—or, shall we say, her fan club—has expanded from class buddies to a veritable international festival of fashionistas, including folks who prefer the timeless trend of sending inaccurate measurements just to keep things interesting.
Through the unpredictable journey balancing art and entrepreneurship, Ore has taken a deep dive into business education—because winging it only works if you have penguins in your backyard, which, unfortunately, she doesn’t. “Every step in branding is crucial, from the moment someone scrolls past a cute sweater to the instant it arrives at their door,” she explains, looking disturbingly serious for someone who started with yarn and dreams. Now, Ore is a proactive CEO rather than a reactive artist—occasionally forgetting to eat three days in a row, but hey, progress, right?
