Along the banks of the Yellow River, a soft rhythm rises — the hum of sewing machines, the whisper of leather, the quiet laughter of women at work.

They are Songmont's Grannies Team — women who, after decades of stillness, have found their passion again.

Most of them are in their fifties and sixties, each with more than forty years of craft experience. Once tailors and seamstresses in their villages, they now lend their steady hands to the making and mending of Songmont’s bags — blending tradition with design, patience with purpose.

Among them is Fu Yulan, Songmont’s very first employee — a retired mechanical engineer, and the mother of founder Fu Song."I grew up watching my own mother sew tiger-head hats by the oil lamp," she says. "When I sew now, it feels like I’m talking to her again."

Years later, when her daughter began creating bags, craft became their shared language — bridging the distance of generations. What started as a small collaboration turned into a revival of heritage. Yulan returned to her hometown and gathered a group of women who, like her, had once lived through the quiet disappearance of handcraft. Together, they formed the Grannies Team.

Granny Ping, one of the earliest members, recalls: "When the factories came, we stopped sewing. But when Song’s mother invited me to make bags again, I felt alive. Every bag we fix carries someone’s story. When the customer holds it again, it’s like we’ve brought that story back to life."

In their workshop, time moves differently. The air smells faintly of leather and tea. Stories are told as hands move — steady, unhurried, certain.

For Songmont, these grannies represent more than skill; they are living proof that craftsmanship can be both legacy and liberation.
Their work reminds us that making by hand is also making a life — one of dignity, renewal, and connection.

And so they keep stitching, keep laughing, keep learning —on the road again.