Marichka Baysa: Ukrainian Embroidery, Motanka, and Kids’ Fashion

Author(s): Scott Douglas Jacobsen

Publication (Outlet/Website): СокальINFO

Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2025/11/11

Marichka Baysa is a Ukrainian fashion designer from Lviv, now based in Toronto. Her work blends traditional embroidery with Ukrainian traditions, using red-and-black palettes standard in Western Ukraine and motifs from Zaporizhzhia and the Carpathians. She incorporates folkloric symbols — motanka talisman doll, circles for life’s cycle, triangles, waves, and the kalyna guelder-rose — that encode protection and continuity. Baysa crafts customized pieces that embed personal meaning for clients from artisans to performers and has organized children’s fashion programming in Toronto. During the war, she prioritizes resilience and cultural preservation, planning future runway shows in Ukraine after victory and stabilization and diaspora admiration abroad.

In this conversation with Scott Douglas Jacobsen, Baysa explores how Ukrainian cultural identity endures through modern design. Baysa intertwines traditional embroidery and folkloric symbolism—red-and-black palettes, the motanka talisman, circles of life, and the kalyna guelder-rose—into contemporary tailoring. She explains regional embroidery distinctions from Donetsk to the Carpathians, contrasting the minimal ornamentation in children’s vyshyvankas with the denser, protective motifs in adult garments. Reflecting on wartime creativity, Baysa emphasizes resilience, diaspora admiration abroad, and her hope to return fashion showcases to Lviv after Ukraine’s victory and cultural stabilization.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: There is an intense fashion scene in Ukraine. You are from Lviv, now living in Toronto, where you’ve started a new life and created a kids’ fashion week. Were any templates in Lviv the premise for work in Toronto?

Marichka Baysa: At the moment, because of the current situation in Ukraine and the major political events expected next year, fashion will not be my main priority—or anyone else’s. Arts and fashion can be the focus after we win the war, after we have a new government, and after those significant political developments. But in the future — maybe in two or three years — why not have a kids’ fashion show? 

We have Ukrainian Fashion Week in Kyiv, which is traditionally held twice a year (spring/summer and autumn/winter). During the full-scale war, 2022-2023, the traditional Kyiv-based Ukrainian Fashion Week schedule was suspended. Instead, they ran “Support Ukrainian Fashion” showcases in London, Paris, Copenhagen and other cities to keep Ukrainian designers visible during the war. With the February 14–17, 2025, Ukrainian Fashion Week, it has fully returned to Kyiv. This Autumn, they also had a show in the capital – and it was terrific. I loved what I saw. Hopefully, in the future, we’ll have Fashion Week for adults and children in Lviv and other cities across Ukraine, but that will come once the war has ended.

Jacobsen: Are there any embroidered elements in Lviv’s culture incorporated into your work in Toronto?

Baysa: Yes, mainly red and black, very traditional in much of Western Ukraine. More precisely, though, black is the dominant colour in most traditional Lviv patterns, representing earth, fertility, and endurance. Red symbolizes love, energy, and life; often paired with black for contrast. White, as a background, represents purity and spirituality. Most shirts are embroidered on white homespun linen. Yellow and Green are used sparingly, but for accents, symbolizing wealth, harvest, and renewal.

Blue is less common, but appears in festive or modern reinterpretations for tranquillity and faith. I try to incorporate it into my designs, especially for custom pieces. For instance, I’m making one for a woman who’s a balloon artist. She creates large balloon toys. She requested a custom blazer including elements of Ukrainian culture while reflecting her profession. I’ve been combining her balloon motifs with the embroidery patterns from her region. She’s from Zaporizhzhia. 

There are some distinct floral and plant motifs in that region. Grapevines, flowers (especially roses and carnations), and oak leaves are seen as symbols of strength, beauty, and family continuity. The “tree of life” appears more naturalistic and open compared to the geometric Western versions. There is Cossack symbolism. Patterns may feature swords, crosses, or stylized tridents (tryzubs) integrated subtly into designs, which reflect Cossack emblems.

There is a wide chest ornamentation. The central part of the vyshyvanka (на грудях) often features broad vertical bands. These extend across the chest in a “plastron” style, similar to the uniforms of Cossack officers. The most common embroidery technique in Zaporizhzhia is cross-stitch. There are older stitches, “Zavolikannia” and “nyz.” 

These create more texture and dimensionality. Men’s shirts often used darker tones and geometric or military motifs. Women’s shirts lean toward floral compositions and brighter contrasts. Embroidery usually features large floral and geometric ornaments, with red as the dominant colour and red-and-black combinations common. 

By contrast, Western Ukrainian palettes, including parts of Lviv Oblast and the Carpathian/Hutsul area, frequently use intense black with red accents and other bold tones. There’s a well-known tradition of predominantly black embroidery in the Borshchiv area (Ternopil Oblast). 

Those vyshyvanka shirts are richly textured and predominantly black. According to local legend, women adopted black embroidery in mourning after devastating raids centuries ago. These pieces take a great deal of time. Regional styles reflect centuries of cross-border influences, including Polish ornamental traditions in parts of Western Ukraine. The Carpathian region has distinctive stitches and colorways. Styles vary from town to town, but the primary colours I use in my designs are red and black.

Jacobsen: What other pieces of folklore do you build into your designs, or traditionally, what would people see from folklore influencing the designs? You mentioned floral patterns as well. I’m sure there are deeper meanings there.

Baysa: Florals, many trees and leaves, lots of natural motifs. There are geometric ornaments, such as triangles and circles, that symbolize the sun. These patterns predate Christianity in Ukraine. Their meanings have evolved. Before Ukrainians became a Christian nation, people believed in many gods, primarily representing natural forces. 

That’s why the meanings of those triangles, circles, and other ornaments, on vyshyvanka, even crosses, were originally different before Orthodox Christianity arrived in Ukraine. When the Church came, embroidery became more cultural and traditional; its meanings changed. You can still see symbols such as the kalyna (guelder-rose) and crosses.

There are still many circles symbolizing the cycle of life: you live, you die, and you are reborn. Life continues endlessly; the cycle cannot be broken. There are also many triangles and wave patterns. Moving south, toward Odesa or Khmelnytskyi, the ornaments change to reflect the surrounding environment, with more waves and marine themes near the sea.

The Donetsk and Luhansk regions historically had beautiful vyshyvankas, though due to war and displacement, few ancient examples survive. In contrast, museums in the other areas still preserve embroidered shirts over 200 years old. Some eastern designs are said to have featured horses, a unique feature of that area.

In my own collection, one of the most striking symbols you’ll notice is the motanka doll. It’s a talisman meant to bring health, happiness, and protection. Traditionally, the motanka is made without stitches; instead, it’s wrapped and tied with thread or fabric strips. The base often contains herbs, sometimes for healing, or love, safety, or good fortune. Each doll was explicitly created for a person’s needs. That symbolism is reflected in my Lvivna collection. The motanka protects against evil forces and represents an ancient pre-Christian spiritual tradition. Its meaning varies depending on historical and regional interpretation.

Jacobsen: Given your children’s fashion line, are there design appropriateness considerations for children versus adults? Do the patterns, designs, or colour schemes change within the Ukrainian style for that reason?

Baysa: For example, with motanka dolls, there isn’t much difference between those made for adults and those made for children. But when it comes to the ornaments on vyshyvankas, that’s an entirely different story. Vyshyvankas were traditionally made individually, with personalized ornaments meant to protect the wearer, bring health, fertility, or family prosperity. Children’s vyshyvankas typically had fewer ornaments, as it was believed that God already protected children, who were the most vulnerable. As a person grew older, they became responsible for their own protection and that of their family. That’s why adult embroidery was denser and more complex, though not necessarily brighter.

It also depended on the wearer’s status and gender. For instance, male and female ornaments differed in symbols and arrangement. The embroidery essentially functioned as “written words” stitched into the fabric—personal messages encoded in an ornament. I haven’t done that for Lvivna, but I created a similar concept for another project, which you can find online. There’s even a website where you can see how your name would look rendered as a Ukrainian embroidery pattern. Some people have turned these into necklaces or phone cases. It’s a bit self-focused to have your name embroidered on your shirt, but some enjoy that symbolism.

All Lvivna pieces feature vyshyvanka-inspired embroidery, and the upcoming Christmas collection includes more traditional elements. One figure we’re highlighting is Koza Dereza. Koza Dereza (Коза-Дереза) is one of the most beloved characters in Ukrainian folk tales — a mischievous and cunning goat who tricks everyone around her.  Koza Dereza is a tricky, sly goat who uses deceit and cleverness to get her way, symbolizing cunning, wit, and survival through trickery in Ukrainian folklore.

That figure plays a vital role in our Christmas celebrations, along with others like the chort—a mischievous devil figure.

There’s also a folk legend that will appear in Lvivna’s Christmas line. According to the tale, on a snowy Christmas Eve in a Ukrainian village, the mischievous chort (devil) steals the moon to cast darkness over the land and take revenge on Vakula, a brave Cossack blacksmith who paints holy icons. Meanwhile, the devil conspires with Solokha, a cunning witch and Vakula’s mother, who charms and deceives the village men. Amid the chaos, Vakula’s beloved Oksana playfully demands that he bring her the Tsarina’s slippers if he wants her hand in marriage. With courage and wit, Vakula captures the devil, flies on his back to St. Petersburg, meets the Tsarina, and returns with the slippers. When he gives them to Oksana, she realizes his steadfast devotion and agrees to marry him. The tale blends humour, romance, and magic, celebrating Ukrainian Christmas traditions and the triumph of love and goodness over deceit and darkness.

Jacobsen: Do people who include these protective charms in their clothing today sincerely believe in their power, or is it more of a cultural tradition they carry forward?

Baysa: Technically, most Ukrainians are Orthodox Christians, but over the past five to ten years, there’s been a revival of interest in pre-Christian beliefs—our ancestral religion that worshipped multiple gods connected to nature and daily life. These revived beliefs honour deities associated with the family, fertility, and natural forces. People who follow these traditions genuinely believe in the protective power of charms.

Among very religious Orthodox families, it’s different. They may claim not to believe in such symbols, yet when asked to remove them, they often resist—saying, “No, I need it.” So even when people say they don’t believe, there’s still an emotional or cultural attachment. I’d say belief and caution coexist—it’s part faith, part heritage.

Jacobsen: Last question—when you organize fashion shows in Toronto, compared to those you’ve seen in Lviv, if you were to stage an identical show, say for children, how would the symbolism and presentation be received differently by audiences in Lviv and by the Ukrainian Canadian diaspora in Toronto?

Baysa: The reactions would definitely be different. In Ukraine, people might say, “We’ve seen this before,” because of the abundance of creativity there. Ukraine has many talented artists, designers, and dancers—nearly every city has an art or dance school. The talent is incredible. The challenge is funding and investment—time, money, and infrastructure. Many young or emerging artists struggle to grow because there aren’t enough resources. Even when they do succeed, being an artist rarely provides the financial stability that being, say, a doctor or engineer does.

There’s an overwhelming amount of art and creativity in Ukraine, but due to underfunding, much of it remains unseen internationally. Ukrainians themselves, though, are immersed in it—they experience art everywhere. In Canada, it’s the opposite. There’s a noticeable lack of artistic presence, particularly in cultural art. Yes, there’s Indigenous art, which is rich and vital, but beyond that, Canada’s mainstream art scene is relatively limited. We have icons like the Group of Seven, but for such a vast country, that’s not enough to sustain a deeply rooted cultural tradition.

The Ukrainian diaspora in Canada often comes from smaller villages and towns, and many haven’t been exposed to the full depth of Ukraine’s art scene. For them, seeing these designs and symbols on stage is breathtaking—it’s new and emotionally powerful. They see beauty and heritage. Meanwhile, in Ukraine, audiences would likely appreciate the craftsmanship but respond more critically: “It’s nice, but what’s next?” They’d expect innovation and deeper layers of artistry. That contrast captures the main difference between the two audiences.

Jacobsen: That’s wonderful. Thank you for your time.

Baysa: My pleasure.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen, Sokalinfo.com

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