An Editorial Reflection by Nicolò Di Stefano

Sometimes the reason for building something new begins with remembering what it felt like to be invisible

Five years ago, my husband Jiatai and I founded Shiba&Co., a pet fashion maison born from what many would have called an impossible idea: creating clothing and accessories dedicated to one specific dog breed — the Shiba Inu.

The idea did not come from market research, trends, or investor reports. It came from love.

We were, and still are, the parents of a Shiba Inu named Fendi. Living every day with him allowed us to understand something deeper about the breed: their movements, their personality, their coat, their habits, their quiet independence. We realized that generic products designed for “all dogs” often failed to truly understand the uniqueness of certain breeds. We believed there was room for something more thoughtful, more intentional — something built around identity.

So we started.

But dreams rarely begin comfortably.

The journey was not a peaceful walk by the sea. It was uncertainty, sacrifice, mistakes, long nights, fear, and intuition all moving together at once. Like many founders, we entered an industry where very few people understood what we were building.

One of the hardest realities was visibility.

As a young independent brand, being recognized by the market mattered. Editorial validation mattered. Appearing in respected fashion publications felt almost impossible — not because our story lacked originality, but because access itself often seemed reserved for those who already belonged to the system.

At the time, our financial resources were limited. We certainly could not afford $5,000 PR agencies, nor could we justify paying extraordinary sums for a few lines in major fashion publications. We felt excluded from an opportunity that seemed available only to those with established budgets and established names.

And yet, what we were building was pioneering.

Shiba&Co. became one of the first maisons to dedicate itself entirely to a specific breed, studying not only aesthetics but movement, behavior, proportions, and everyday rituals. We were not simply selling products. We were building a philosophy around companionship and identity.

Still, there was little room for us.

Years later, when I founded QEditorial Magazine, I kept thinking about that version of myself — the founder at the beginning, trying to be seen while nobody believed in the idea yet.

I made myself a promise.

If one day I had a platform, I would create space for the people who had none.

That promise became QEditorial Magazine.

This publication was never meant to become simply another online platform chasing trends or reproducing the same stories told everywhere else. QEditorial Magazine was created as an editorial home for emerging brands, independent artists, overlooked designers, and creators whose voices deserve to be seen before the rest of the world notices them.

Because talent does not begin when the world validates it.

Talent often exists quietly, long before recognition arrives.

This is why QEditorial Magazine is building a dedicated editorial department focused entirely on emerging creatives and brands waiting to be discovered — through photography, philosophy, identity, and narrative. Not simply product coverage, but storytelling with depth.

We live in a world rapidly changing the way it discovers talent. No longer only through legacy media, paid exposure, or traditional systems of visibility, but through editorial lenses that understand struggle because they have lived it firsthand.

Perhaps that is what makes QEditorial different.

We do not simply write about creators.

Sometimes, we recognize them because we once were them.

Nicolò Di Stefano
Founder & Editor-in-Chief
QEditorial Magazine