"It was damp. One could sense the heaviness of humidity in the way the spun fibre relaxed, became plumpier, heavier. I was there to protect you, even if you could absolutely handle the life yourself. But I knew you were in need of something familiar, something your skin knew since you were born. So I clothed you in hugs, hugging you like moss hugs the stones it grows around. You were my closest. Even when thrown into the wardrobe, there was a memory I had of us and how we fit together. I adjusted to your body temperature, you streched me out. We had a dynamic that was supportive. It was hard for me not to think of you, even resting, each time you opened the wardrobe door, I was looking forward to the shivering excitement that one feels when your loved one brushes softly against you. I have been there for you when you moved, I soak up your tears of despair when they dared to break your heart. I embraced you when you were lonely, but most of all I aired in the wind and saw you smiling when you were at your favorite hill.

We absorbed sun together. I know it bothered you when I was in the way, disturbing you to do a chore that was one out of many pressing you down on that day. I felt your fatigue, when there was lack of sleep and nobody would ask how you are. I knew how you are, I drank your sweat and I could feel your stress and anxiety. Sometimes, I could tell you were really needing a break, especially when your back would bend unable to support the weight your spine was pressured to hold. I knew your body better than any lover ever did. I was upset when you decided to discard what entangled us. The intimacy there was was not to be replaced by. Somedays you are too far away. At those moments, the world feels cold, limited and without prospects I knew it will never be the same. I held within me all that I could, a worn in memory of how wonderful belonging feels like."

The short video story was created in collaboration with artist Tringa Gashi to document and celebrate moments of ever changing life and to remember that everything is as important and special as the sun rising each morning.

We talked about garments and days we spend in them. Unfolding throughout spring months, it was a way to archive routines we create for ourselves, a cycle of circadian rhythm, a breath of a woman, a blow of the wind. We discussed perspectives, those of human kind, non-western, from spaces we inhabit and pass by or observe, similar to the pigeon in the city. What seemed unspoken, became familiar to both of us. Most likely, this is how I hope what both making and wearing garments for us is like - a kind of unspoken communication lead by a series of steps, archived into minutes at the time.

Short video story by Tringa Gashi

Text by Garments on Demand