Intimate Moments

Echoes of the inner world, stitched into being.

Here, you’ll find a curated archive of original artworks, each one designed to hold meaning, memory, and personal authorship.


When building your garment, you can:


  • Select from our collection of rare, narrative-driven pieces
  • Upload your own image, turning personal memory into wearable story
  • Or keep your squares blank, allowing space for future expression

 

Some stories stretch across multiple squares, forming a visual thread.

Some repeat like a rhythm.

Some are chosen for their restraint,  the beauty of what’s left unsaid.


These are not embellishments.

They’re artefacts in motion, meant to be worn, reinterpreted, and passed on

Where The Body Lingers

Each form is a hush in motion They shimmer with unfinished intention
A curve held too long With seduction suspended
A breath that forgot to leave Drawn from tradition
Bodies twist hover reach But not bound to it
Not to pose but to tempt These forms invite interpretation
To tease out meaning from muscle And trust the viewer to decide
They do not explain This is the body revealing itself
They do not settle In its own language
Quiet peculiar and true

Built From A Shift

Built From a Shift

She began as a body they could name Built from their language
Carved and contained Etched by inheritance
But something in her refused To stay as she was
A cracking beneath the skin A slow opening into unknown
The shift was not gentle It hurt, but it was necessary
It split, then shaped Formed in her own heat
She no longer resembled her beginning And she did not apologise for it
This was not return This was emergence
Raw, strange, complete

The Creatures We Inherit

 

The Creatures We Inherit

They live beneath the language of skin Remembered without knowing
Passed down in silence Carried in gesture, not memory
An echo felt, not heard They hum beneath the surface
Born of others’ aching Still breathing, still watching
They wait in the quiet body These are the creatures we inherit
They move when you don’t They are not ours to control
Not summoned, but inherited But they live through us anyway
They do not resemble us Not fully seen, not easily named
But always there