They come broken but not broken down because they have been stripped away of the mannerisms they have developed to stand, to dress, to be noticed.

Clothing follows the same urge. Garments are worn incorrectly, intentionally used inaccurately, pressed against the intended use. Pants lose dignity when untucked, twisted, layered awkwardly against the body. Construction exists but no longer dictates.

There is nothing refined about it. Bodies are revealed without allure, profiles are unresolved, proportions are ever so slightly awry. In resisting
the fashion, the gesture, the demand of dressing, something alien is emerging.

There is resistance in that state. Rejecting what is labeled ‘normal’ is never a smooth process. Within that uneasy territory, something else
begins to arise. A quality that doesn’t request to be comprehended or accepted.

“They don’t try to stand out, they just don’t conform.“ And it’s through that, through that lack of pretension, that a truer version of oneself
exists, an uncorrected, unperformed version, but a real one nonetheless.