If one childhood memory could change your whole career, would you stop and listen?
When Jodie-Mae was fed up with the digital realms back in 2021, she decided that she wanted to make something tangible in real life with her hands instead. At the thought, a certain memory came to mind when she pondered on what hand-made meant to her.

When she was just a kid, her mum who was a leadlight artist at the time had made each of Jodie-Mae's siblings a stained glass lam. But as life often does, time and other matters got in the way and her mum was never able to complete a lamp for Jodie-Mae.
Pondering what that creation would have looked like, her imagination started to run wild.
And it ran, and ran, until years later - where she found herself with sold out collections at exhibitions, features in the New York Times, and her works adorning many corners of Melbourne as Jodie-Mae came to find herself running along the path her mum once walked.
What started as a memory, led Jodie-Mae down a colourful stained-glass path to find herself to be a leadlight artisan and creator of @leadlevels - a studio bending the rules of traditional glasswork, and reframing it in a contemporary and truly captivating light.

Her craft has since become an inseparable part from her day to day life - what she’s reading, what she’s noticing, what’s moving through her days - all ends up finding its way into her creations.
“Sometimes it feels like my whole world is coming to life through these glass portals,” she says with a smile.

As we watched Jodie-Mae freehand map her designs whilst bobbing her head to the jazz playing in the background, it was clear to us that this historical art form was not something to be rushed. This is her creative expression that is guided by hand and instinct, rather than perfection - an unheard of style in the realms of glasswork.

It’s this slow, considered approach that feels radical in a world driven by speed and replication. A reminder that hours matter. That hands matter. That craftsmanship cannot be automated, rushed, or replaced - ideologies we honour in our own factory and have to remind ourselves of when the fast paced pressure of the fashion industry feels heavy.

When asked how she navigates burnout, Jodie-Mae spoke with the same thoughtfulness that appears in her work. She spoke of learning to be gentle with herself - noticing when she’s forcing the process, and allowing herself to step back when needed to avoid her craft becoming something that feels forced.
“There’s nothing I can't do for myself that isn’t also for the work,” she explains. “If I need a day off, or to read a book, or spend time in a gallery, I still see value in that. It’s all a part of being here making.”

As we stood in her cozy Brunswick studio, watching her carefully frame a glass petal in lead, we paused to reflect on the shared language of our crafts. Her patience, precision, and respect for process mirrors the way we approach making our garments. To wrap a fellow creative in a hoodie made with the same intention felt deeply special - a meeting point between our two practices grounded in keeping an industry alive.
