The World Is in It - How global unrest shapes what we carry — and where we go to find it

When we opened found., we built our sourcing model around one idea: go directly to the makers. No middlemen, no wholesale catalogs, no trade shows. Just us, a carry-on, and a list of artisans whose work we believed in.

That model depends entirely on being able to travel safely.

This year, two destinations we had planned to visit — Uzbekistan and Turkey — came off the table. Not because the artisans aren't there. They are. The carpet weavers of Samarkand, the ceramic tile makers of Cappadocia, the silk workshops along what remains of the ancient trade routes — they are still there, still working, still preserving traditions that are thousands of years old. We had to make the decision, as small business owners and as sisters, that the safety risk was too high.

Most people don't think about this when they shop. They see a beautiful object and they see the object. They don't see the geopolitical calculation that happened before it ever landed on a shelf.

The wars and conflicts currently unfolding across the Middle East and parts of Central Asia and Eastern Europe don't just affect the people living through them — and those people are absolutely the primary concern. They also quietly reshape global trade, supply chains, and the ability of small independent buyers like us to reach the artisans we care about.

Entire craft traditions become inaccessible overnight. Shipping routes that were reliable become impassable or prohibitively expensive. Artisans who depend on international buyers lose access to markets that sustain their livelihoods. The ripple effects are wide and they are largely invisible to the end consumer.

So we pivoted. Oaxaca, Mexico. Ecuador. Destinations with rich, extraordinary artisan traditions that we are genuinely excited about — and where we can travel with confidence and intention.

The barro negro pottery of San Bartolo Coyotepec. The natural-dye weavings of Teotitlán del Valle. The red clay women of San Marcos Tlapazola. The fiber arts of the Ecuadorian highlands. These are not consolation prizes. They are world-class craft traditions made by remarkable people.

But we want to be honest about why the map changed. Because the world changed. And we think that's worth saying out loud — not to take a political position, but to acknowledge what is real. The things we carry in this store are connected to the world in ways that go deeper than aesthetics.

When you buy something at found., you are participating in a supply chain that begins with a human being, in a place, navigating their own version of this complicated world. We think that deserves to be acknowledged.

We'll keep going where we can go safely. We'll keep finding the makers. And when the world opens back up — and it will — Uzbekistan and Turkey are still on the list.