Selma’s work lives in the space between fashion and feeling. Her focus is slow fashion, but not just as a concept. As something personal. Something lived.

“My passion is creating slow fashion pieces that make people feel confident, chic, and quietly powerful,” she says.

Her path into it was something that grew over time. She has always been drawn to the creative world. To aesthetics, to form, to the way ideas take shape and become something tangible. SOLAIRE, her brand, began during the pandemic while she was back home in Oslo. What started as a small, intuitive project quickly became something more.

“I began making bags from upcycled denim from my friends,” she says. “That really became the starting point of everything.”

But her story is deeply tied to New York. After living there for seven years, the city has become part of her process.

“It feels like New York is in every stitch of my clothes,” she says.

Her materials reflect that journey. Sustainable and natural fibers sourced from different places that hold meaning. Yarn from Peru and South America from Downtown Yarns in the East Village, which she describes as her second home. Soft Norwegian wool from her mother when she returns home.

Her process is instinctive. She rarely follows patterns, often starting a piece without knowing what it will become.

“A lot of times I don’t know if it will turn into a skirt, a top, a sweater or a bag,” she says. “I love letting the piece live its own life.”

Over the years, her pieces have taken on lives of their own, sometimes becoming part of moments far bigger than she initially imagined. She has, among other things, hand-knitted a wedding dress for a close friend. See the dress here.

It’s a way of working that feels deeply personal. Not just creating something to wear, but something to hold meaning. Some of those moments have also unfolded on a larger stage. During New York Fashion Week, seeing her pieces come to life on different people, surrounded by a community of creatives, has become some of her most meaningful experiences.

“Being able to work with so many talented people and see my knits on others… it’s the best feeling imaginable,” she says.

Knitting isn’t reserved for quiet moments at home. It follows her into everything. Long dinners with friends, a glass of wine on the table, conversations flowing, and somewhere in between, her hands are moving.

Wherever she goes, her knitting comes with her. It has become so natural, so integrated into her rhythm, that it’s hard to picture her without it.

“I knit everywhere,” she says. “With my friends, on the subway, by the East River, on my fire escape… anytime I have a second.”

In a world that moves fast, her instinct is to slow down. To create. To stay with something.

“It’s a kind of meditation,” she says. “A way to escape from the world for a little.”