About the Woman in the Attic
Hello, I’m Sarah - pink-haired, tattooed, disabled, ADHD, vintage-obsessed and a lifelong collector of all things weird and wonderful.
I grew up on Fleetwood Mac, fell in love with fashion and secondhand treasure hunting, and have never quite been able to resist the things other people overlook. Charity shops, old cameras, 70s rock, David Lynch, peculiar dolls and wanders along Brighton Beach are all somewhere in the mix.
Living with Functional Neurological Disorder has changed my life and, inevitably, the things I create. But running through everything I do is the same idea: finding beauty, identity and value in things that don’t quite fit the mould.
And somehow, that has turned into three rather different collections under one slightly peculiar roof

Sarah’s Doll Parts
For the discarded, forgotten and wonderfully peculiar.
Sarah’s Doll Parts began with my love of vintage dolls and my horror at seeing so many beautiful old porcelain pieces destined for landfill. I rescue them from charity shops, car boots and recycling centres, then deconstruct, clean and rebuild them by hand into one-off floral sculptures, vases, jewellery holders and accessories.
Every piece is different, every doll has her own personality, and the results are unapologetically Marmite - you’ll either love them or wonder what on earth is wrong with me. 😂




Wolf in the Attic Vintage
For clothes with a life before yours.
I studied fashion and have collected - or hoarded, depending on who you ask - vintage clothing for years.
Wolf in the Attic is my hand-picked collection of vintage and pre-loved fashion, with a particular weakness for the 70s and 80s. It’s about beautiful clothes with history, personality and plenty of life left in them.


The Invisible Club
For the battles you can’t always see.
The Invisible Club grew from my own experience of living with disability and the frustration I felt with traditional disability clothing.
I wanted to create something different: bold old-school tattoo-inspired clothing and accessories that acknowledge invisible illness without allowing a diagnosis to become your entire identity.
A little bit of armour, a little bit of solidarity and a way of saying “Yep. Me too.” without having to explain yourself.
Three collections. One unordinary shop
