In 2001, American Susan Pritchett and Bordeaux native Florence Wetterwald founded a children’s label based on values emblematic of the new millennium: envi-ronmental awareness, a commitment to fair trade and an openness to international collaboration and exchange. Pretty serious stuff for a company called blabla.
    The idea originated during a trip to South America. At the time, Pritchett and Wetterwald, close friends who met while working at an Atlanta design studio, had been casting about for a creative business venture. They found it in Peru’s small rural villages, where master knitters still practice skills handed down through generations, fashioning sweaters, ponchos, cardigans and other items. Letting nothing go to waste, they use the leftover wool to make finger puppets. Inspired by these miniature works of folk art, Pritchett and Wetterwald immediately hired knitters to produce their own designs. The resulting finger puppets were so charming that they were soon featured in the Sundance Catalog; before long, the fledgling company had branched out into clothing and dolls, and in 2007, it opened a store in midtown Atlanta.
    With Wetterwald handling design and Pritchett overseeing marketing, blabla now also makes soft and cheerful rattles, blankets, mobiles and backpacks, working with more than 150 Peruvian artisans and selling its products in 34 countries. The company continues to honor the ethical principles upon which it was founded, engaging in environmentally friendly fair-trade practices and commissioning rigorous third-party testing of all fabric dyes, stuffing and small parts. Yet while it has been ahead of the curve in these areas, its real advantage is Wetterwald’s distinctive and endearing designs. Adults and children alike are seduced by such adorable items as a giraffe rattle with a tiny bird on its back, colorful tasseled hats with a finger-puppet pocket and Bubbles, the turquoise polka-dotted cat. All are knitted in super-soft Pima cotton.
    In 2009, blabla received a Platinum Award from the Oppenheim Toy Portfolio, an independent consumer organization. Co-founder Stephanie Oppenheim explained her enthusiasm for the toys on her blog: “Rarely do we get products that are so fresh looking—yet have a very retro, pleasingly familiar feel to them. There are dolls that will appeal to both boys and girls—they are all knitted—and each character has tons of personality! They have that extra dose of whimsy that makes this an outstanding collection.”
    An accomplished artist whose drawings have been exhibited at the Pompidou Center in Paris, Wetterwald attributes her creative vision to her upbringing. Her father’s side of the family, which operates a venerable wine-label printing company, is steeped in Bordeaux tradition, while her free-spirited, globe-trotting mother collects modern art and founded a knitwear atelier in Paris—hence Wetterwald’s affinity for yarn. “In my designs, I think about quality and timelessness, but I’m also quite open-minded—I don’t think there is one right way or wrong way to do things,” she observes. “The main thing is to create something that is tender and poetic, that touches children and makes them smile.”
    She admits that her ultimate dream is to go down in toy design history. “I would love it if people would one day say, ‘Remember the blabla dolls we used to carry around?’” This desire to be in tune with the times informs Wetterwald’s creative process. “There is a research period, when I look at art books and design books, at magazines and blogs and Web sites, and I just fill myself with ideas,” she explains. “Also, when I travel, I always write little notes and take pictures, compiling a sort of image bank. Then I focus on the ones that come up a lot, what I feel is in the air.”
    She also draws liberally on her French heritage. “I was raised in an old, old château. There was no TV, and I was surrounded by books. I was really fascinated by Grand-ville’s Scènes de la vie privée et publique des animaux and La Fontaine’s Fables, illustrated by Doré. I loved all those animals speaking and acting like humans.” Cue McNuttie the Squirrel in his windowpane-plaid pants.
    To take a McNuttie from concept to cuddly toy, Wetterwald provides the knitters in Peru with drawings and color swatches from the blabla palette. “Because I’ve been working with the same people for eight years, we’re really in sync,” she remarks. “In the beginning, drawings had to be very precise, with technical knitting specs. Now, there are times when I don’t even indicate which stitches to use where, and they still know exactly what I want.”
    The geographic and cultural divide is not without its challenges, however. It takes a good six months of back and forth via email, followed by face-to-face collabor-ation in Peru, to create the prototypes for the two seasonal lines, typically about 10 new products. Once the knitting pat-terns have been set, aes-thetics come into play, and that is where differences arise. “Results from the first three or four trials are never what you have in mind,” Wetterwald says. “It’s funny actually, the way different cultures interpret things differently—something that means one thing to us often means something totally different to them. Also, because of their particular ideas of beauty, their lines are much more severe, much stronger. My references are more northern—I love Sweden, I love the Baltics—so I tend to go for lines that are softer. Sometimes, I do a design and it comes back with an Incan feel to it, so I have to rework it—but I’m used to that,” she laughs.
    How is it then that blabla toys are embraced by children around the world? “Every country has its own sensitivities,” says Wetterwald. “In Asia, we sell more of the Bugaloos—they are our latest dolls, and they are a little bit more graphic, more cartoon-oriented. Our classic blabla dolls appeal more to the American market, which is a little more traditional. Europeans buy both.”
    The company is already preparing the next chapter of its international toy story. “I’m doing a lot of research right now with illustrators,” says Wetterwald. “We’d like to have a book for each doll—what she does, what she likes and doesn’t like. We think the kids would really benefit from that.” She cites a few of the back stories: “There’s Mozart, who’s a monkey; you’d think he’d be a great musician, but instead he just can’t play. And Sandwich [a cat] loves to eat, but he also loves to read, and he can never make up his mind what to do first, so he does both at the same time. The doll Lulu is a flower, and flowers are supposed to be pretty, but she’s always got a petal on her head, and she’s always late, she’s always tripping over things.”
    Wetterwald’s dolls are like all of us—they are imperfect, they have little quirks, they are fragile. “When I look at what we do at blabla, it’s very human,” she says. “I guess that’s the beauty of it.”
blabla, 1189 Virginia Ave. NE, Atlanta, GA, 30306; Tel. 404/875-6496; blablakids.com.