Oonuh (also spelled unnuh or oonah) is a second-person plural pronoun shared across the African diaspora—used throughout the Gullah communities of the Lowcountry, in Caribbean patois, and in the everyday rhythms of Black American speech.

It means you all or y'all, but to me, it means all of you. All who came before. All who carry it forward.

It’s a word that connects generations and geographies. A soft, familiar sound that feels like a comforting coo from the ancestors—those lilting ooohs and ahhhs wrapped in the strength of n and h. It’s music. It’s memory.

I can still hear my grandmother—who’s well into her 100s and still tending her farm—say,
“Oonuh gon’ miss me when I’m gone”

And she’s right. I do this for her. For them.
For all y’all. 🐚

My work is self-expression rooted in memory—an aesthetic built on the rhythm of two very different worlds that raised me.

I grew up between brick buildings in NY and dirt roads of South Carolina. Between subway screeches and cicada hums. My childhood was split between summers on my mother’s family farm, where we shelled pecans in paper bags and wore lace gloves to church. Then, back to the streets of the Bronx and Bed-Stuy, where beauty came in the form of fur coats and bamboo earrings, set against graffiti brick walls and the boldest self-expression you ever saw.

That tension between the raw and the refined, the organic and the ornate, the nostalgic and the now is where my design lives.

Oonuh is my offering and my way of bringing it forward. Of turning all those vivid contrasts into keepsakes and decor that feel both personal and universal.

It’s joy. It’s culture. It’s memory. It’s me.

T~ 🖤