“My home has no shape / Nothing to sustain me / But it keeps me safe / From imagined pain”

Having no anchor, or real place to call ‘home’, the elements of the ‘walking wardrobe’ become one’s improvised, immediate shelter.

Loose, dissected tailoring, hand dyeing and painting, ripping stitches as well as incorporating drawing onto the fabric echo the nomadic and self-retrospective pilgrimage.

Recombining the components of everyday garments into a collection which reflects on clothing as a space of intimate and temporary refuge as well as anxiety, wear-and-tear and quiet traversal through living experiences.

Work Placement

Aitor Throup Studio, London