Tailoring for the Homies with Space Spinach

The art of tailoring is a study in workmanship and patience – and in a contemporary setting, it can feel like a waning pathway. Fashion & design are hyper-focused on the ‘creative director’ – and while necessary and brilliant in its own function, there is much to be said for the gritty, hands-on development a designer achieves through intimate knowledge of garment construction. Dennis Collins, the designer behind Space Spinach, has found himself using the term ‘tailor’ recently –  although, entirely by chance. What began as mending clothes for his friends – many of whom are local skaters in the city, prone to slashes and rips – slowly became a micro-apparel brand, with Dennis making custom pieces on the side, learning from Youtube and a CMT on an industrial machine. Encouraged by his partner, Lindsey Raymond, to apply for G-Star RAW’s Certified Tailor Program : Dennis wasn’t sure he qualified, yet the program felt otherwise; now a program affiliate, Dennis finds himself alongside fellow tailors Samkelo Boyde Xaba (JHB) and Sabelo Shabalala (DBN) – the trio working to mend and revive for G-Star’s customers. A new realm has opened for Dennis; one in which his passion for making clothes is showing itself to be laden with possibility, and so apt for someone who seeks to learn everyday; from drafting, to fitting – stitching and finishings, there are few things as powerful as being able to make clothing.

It’s really only with the advent of fast-fashion that tailoring has since diminished as an integral community-role and service; although no less important, the art of tailoring, mending and re-inventing is precisely Dennis’ practice. Did everyone see those ostrich leather cargo pants that he recently dropped? Outrageously good. We caught up with Dennis in a Q+A format, for more insight into the brand’s shift from basic apparel and into this new frontier as a space for tailoring and craftsmanship.

Being both a designer and tailor is really interesting – in an age when we have lost a lot of understanding in everyday life that garment construction is a very technical skill. Can you describe a bit how this came about for you, being a tailor and designer?

In this age, everything is instant; nobody wants to wait and everyone wants results – fast! So, when my mom had a sewing machine and I had the option of making clothes rather than having to wait for someone else to do it for me, I took the opportunity. My first pair of trousers had a drawstring and were meant to be pull-up-and-go, ‘easy wear’ pants. I started tailoring them to fit well, and they just naturally became formal pants… but just ones that you could still skate in. I realised that the pants could be functional and beautiful.

 

What are you doing with G Star Raw at the moment and how has it deepened your work as a designer?

I help G-Star Raw provide a service to their clients by repairing any wear-and-tear on their jeans. So, we work together to revive denim. Collaborating with G-Star Raw definitely has made me want the level of craftsmanship and quality they achieve. But I’ve also taken note of the areas of garments exposed to the most strain, so it’s natural to want to look for solutions and incorporate that into your own designs.

The term sustainability is overdone and oversaturated, but how do you approach design in a conscious way?

I try to be conscious about everything. So, by default I am sustainable, but it also just happens to be. The total mass of garments that can be produced by a single industrial manufacturer can’t compare to the amount coming out of my home studio.

 

What does it mean to you to be a designer and what are your references and inspirations? 

When you design, you share how limitless creativity can be and you communicate with people by making something they might respond to. You create a home for your ideas. My references are my daily life. Locally, I look back at old classics myself and so many others found in the emblematic Corner Store. Now, I look to the Broke Boys and everyone housed in Pot Plant Club (PPC). We all influence each other to excel and to produce something even better than the last time.

I’m also inspired by fabric stores, because so often I am guided by the materials I use: by how fun, different, and unique they are. And of course, Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren. I lean more towards looking at high fashion, those are the looks that excite me the most.  Then, it all ties back to skating – that’s where Space Spinach comes from. 

 

What is the vision forward for Space Spinach?

Growth! But also, consistency. We want to figure out how to tie skate culture, high fashion, streetwear, and art all together. And to always expand beyond what we know. We also want our own in-store studio and a space to hold and showcase our ideas. And eventually, to produce more numbers! But not to manufacture in a way that is harmful to the brand’s exclusivity.

 

Where does the name ‘Space Spinach’ come from?

It’s a playful euphemism that just stuck! If you know, you know! And if you don’t, now it’s just Space Spinach the brand and what it has become.

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Kwezi wears a custom-fitted Golden Swamp Cargo Pants and SS Bucket Hat

Lindsey wears a Metallic Heavy Petal wrap-around dress accompanied by Clarkes and his custom Leather Patchwork Doggy-Fit 

Lindsey wears the latest Cropped Hoody – the first of our in-house hoodies produced from our home studio, along with our Chrome Cargo Pants

Lea wears the Chrome Single-pleat Slacks and Forest Green SS Cap

Lea wears the Chrome Single-pleat Slacks as well as the Lime Green SS Hoody 

Lea wears the Chrome Cargo Pants as well as the Lime Green SS Hoody and Foldable JACKET-IN-A-BAG Raincoat

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Interlude Chapter 08 | We Should Be Taking Cues From Copenhagen Fashion Week

The holy trinity of fashion season is Paris, Milan and London – with the most established fashion week programs and institutions, the trio have historically been the consummation or grand slam of a label or designer’s showcase; the final destination, and ultimate centre for the dissemination of their work. Yet, quietly and cordially – the Nordic countries have been carving their own path in the way of sartorial expression, and the nexus for this is Copenhagen Fashion Week. The home of the ‘Ganni Girl’ and coined term ‘Copencore’ – arising out of the minimalist palette of their sister country, Sweden, Danish fashion has risen out of such shadows, to become synonymous with vivid colours and textures – playfulness, joy and a deliberate emphasis on apparel and everyday wear. Slightly different from “ready-to-wear”, I use the term everyday wear to describe the sincerity of Danish fashion – that it seems to actually reflect, directly and effortlessly, the sartorial choices of our generation; many of us working as creatives, many of us thrifting and interpreting trends with less rigidity and rules than before. Danish fashion seems to show the lived lifestyles of fashion-conscious people around the world; and as such, Copenhagen Fashion Week is as much a coveted affair as it is an event that feels accessible and relatable. The wild part of this – particularly the fervour for which CPHFW is becoming an essential fixture in the industry – is that it is still considered a very young, emerging fashion market. Sound familiar?

With South Africa’s own fashion industry producing some of the leading designers in the world, and our incredible array of small-scale streetwear, contemporary luxury and design school have been underscored by a consolidation and streamlining of our own fashion week spaces. As Daniël Geldenhuys writes, News of a merger between two of South Africa’s three major fashion weeks underscored this season’s collections. SA Fashion Week remains in Johannesburg, while SA Menswear Week, now expanded to include womenswear under #WeekOfFashion branding and a CTFC graduate showcase, happens in Cape Town. What exactly this will mean for the industry, no one can say for sure. But two fashion weeks is far better than three: this consolidation, unimaginable in a pre-pandemic world, should enhance the community benefits designers find so valuable.”  The necessity for fashion weeks remain invaluable – for local designers, applying for global prizes tend to require a local history of showcasing, and even amidst the digitisation of fashion – the hybrid access to collections alongside the unmatched tangibility of runway shows, mean that fashion weeks continue to be an essential avenue for our industry. Our emerging industry, like Copehagen – is a profound place to be amongst a global landscape that is shifting faster than many of us can comprehend. What CPHFW appears to execute beautifully, is that it’s a biannual hub of connectivity – and yet, a site to be seen at too – but with the kind of earnest spirit that many of us find ourselves first stepping into “fashion” with.

Without nearly 50 years of historical decorum and tradition – like with Paris – emerging fashion weeks meet an opportunity to build their foundations within a contemporary timeframe; cognisant of the social, ecological and cultural shifts occurring within the collective consciousness, and with the ability to action these as the blueprint of their vision. While we have seen these same shifts being reflected within the ‘old guard’, such measures are perhaps easier and feel more sincere in emerging landscapes. As WWD said, Copenhagen Fashion Week drives ‘a democratic approach to dressing’ and so eloquently writer Samantha Conti goes onto say, “The Danish have been working hard to fix Scandinavian fashion on the map, and to promote Copenhagen Fashion Week as the cooler, more progressive — and more whimsical — younger sibling of London, Paris and Milan.” Trend wise, functionality and wearability are centric to the Danish design aesthetic; and much like our own fashion landscape, aspirational price-tags of the couture variety are inconsequential; affordability is a topic of conversation at CPHFW as it is here at home, where much of the market has to be driven by the local economy first before garnering international interest. Many of the designers and labels AT CPHFW are self-starters; like Cecilie Bahnsen, a designer making dresses as luxurious and crafted as couture in the Parisian sense, fetches a low price tag of €2,000 – a fraction of nearly most of what is shown further south in Europe; challenging the very notion of hungry-ghost style capitalism under which much of the mainstream luxury fashion system rests upon. CPHFW’s schedule features many relatively recent alumni from schools, or creatives making career changes to fashion design, with a vision to create their own labels; and similar to South Africa, the culture of singular appointments of creative directors to big houses is practically non-existent; this is self-creation, community-driven creative execution by our generation, for our generation. We are watching a new understanding of the fashion ecosystem being born in Scandinavia; and we would be wise to take notes, spirited by where our varying potentials lie as a critical sartorial centre in Africa.

Underpinning all of this in a philosophical sense, is CPHFW’s unwavering commitment to sustainability; with many of the designers on show already having social and ecological awareness woven into the very fibre of their creative practices. Swedish label Main Nué had their entire collection made from vintage and deadstock fabrics – with others doing similarly – and with their position as a micro-brand – exhibit that it’s not who you are, but rather what you are doing that is of interest to CPHFW and the vision ahead. To further this, CPHFW have released their sustainability report with a specific mandate for 2023; in which every label must meet 18 minimum sustainability requirements to qualify for a slot on their schedule. There are as follows, found here;

As of Copenhagen Fashion Week AW23 (AW23: 31 January – 3 February 2023), all show schedule applicants whose sustainability efforts meet the minimum standards will be considered for the official Copenhagen Fashion Week show schedule. The 18 Minimum Standards span six focus areas covering the entire value chain. In addition to those, brands are asked to answer an additional set of questions to get insight into their current standing on their sustainability efforts;

  • We work strategically with embedding sustainability and international standards on human rights 
  • We include diversity and equality in our management approach and actively consider these aspects when hiring staff, especially for management positions
  • We do not destroy unsold clothes from previous collections.
  • We design to increase the quality and value of our products economically and materially and inform our customers about the value of longevity.
  • We find a second life for our samples.
  • At least 50% of our collection is either certified, made of preferred materials or new generation sustainable materials, upcycled, recycled or made of deadstock.
  • We have a preferred materials list in place.
  • We have a list of restricted substances in place, following the requirements of the EU REACH Directive, and engage with our suppliers to ensure compliance.
  • Our collection is fur-free.
  • We are committed to exercising due diligence in our supply chain according to international guidelines and standards and work with our suppliers to ensure e.g., freely chosen employment, secure employment or no child labour.
  • We are committed to operating a safe, healthy and respectful working environment for all our employees, free from harassment and discrimination and where everyone enjoys equal opportunities regardless of gender, ethnicity, age, political/religious/ sexual orientation, physical appearance and ability.
  • Our in-store and online customer service staff is well informed about our sustainability strategy.
  • We educate and inform our customers about our sustainability practices on multiple platforms.
  • We do not utilise single-use plastic packaging in store or for online orders but offer recyclable, recycled or repurposable alternatives.
  • Our set design and show production is zero waste.
  • We do not utilise single-use plastic packaging backstage during fashion week but offer recyclable, recycled or repurposable alternatives.
  • We offset or inset the carbon footprint of our show.
  • We are signatory of the Danish Fashion Ethical Charter and consider diversity and inclusivity when casting models.

 

This non-negotiable attitude is essential if we are to imagine having any kind of world in the future; at least not one in which fashion production can continue. With vast creative and entrepreneurial talent here in South Africa, many of the above are the nature of what local designers do – particularly in the way of small-scale production and inclusivity – yet, daring to expand further, and for that to be supported by the fashion institutions and networks that here – one can only imagine.

Lady Skollie’s Illustrious Presence

Laura Windvogel-Molifi AKA Lady Skollie is not a conversation or interview that one should research for – unbound by anything that may have been written about her previously in her decade long career – she has been through immense shifts in the last three years. So, we scrap everything you thought you knew; because while Laura’s core tenets remain artistically in her style, Laura shapes a new form in both herself and her work everyday. Rare is the moment to speak to an artist whose personality and work are so intertwined; far from the fine artist trope of having one’s work front-facing and their personhood subdued or discreet, Lady Skollie IS her art, and her paintings accompany this expression as a peek into her illuminated, illustrious inner-world. 

It seems like a cliché to say that I wanted to be an artist as a child, but it’s true. When I was very young and wrote with my left hand, I realised I could draw – so kids used to line up in class and ask me to draw them legs. Like many creative pursuits for a lot of people, art chose me – and I’ve been in the art world since I was about 8 years old. From that age, my mother sent me to Frank Joubert Art & Design Centre – now it’s called Peter Clarke Art Centre – until I was about 18. The famous and former principal Jill Joubert is a genius, and she really changed my life – I owe her a lot in terms of guidance.” Laura explains where her art education began, noting the quiet school in Claremont that has been a guardian of nurturing young, creative talent for decades. Now named after visual artist Peter Clarke, the centre pays homage to the legendary visual artist who created through six decades of both apartheid and democracy. After leaving Michaelis School of Fine Art after two years, Laura took a four year hiatus – “I wanted to see what else I could do. I tried fashion, and worked in shops – suddenly I was good at making sales, and speaking to people. I developed skills that I think have contributed to being able to make art full-time and as a fully fledged career. Working at AVA Gallery, I learnt a lot about art administration – and even though that’s only a few years ago, it’s in my living memory that art wasn’t a thing people did full-time, really. It was a side passion. I always lived in houses with people in advertising and marketing, so that could have been a thing I did – I loved strategy and copywriting – but I think morally, I was too evil or subversive for that world. I learnt a lot from those girls, though; especially about how to represent myself. In 2014, I quit my job and pursued art full-time – and I haven’t worked since in anything else.”

What shifted in a few short years that has seen the attention shift to art, as well as the encouragement for many to pursue it in South Africa? Speaking to this shift, Laura says “I think it’s because people realised they could shift their trauma in a way of making it this tangible thing. The resurgence of activism and discourse on oppression, presently and historically, but also just realising that one can resolve and vocalise their trauma through art. People were doing this before, for sure, but I think black and people of colour have started to feel far more comfortable in the art industry, whereas culturally we have been excluded from it; we have realised this space is for us. I also think the consumer started being more informed – and I also think things like FNB Art Fair, which are all new concepts, drive widespread interest. I think there has been a widespread involvement from all sides in nurturing art as viable and critical work to do in the world, and especially in our country.”

Laura explains her process, which often stems from writing, “I write a lot, and it’s usually the start of a work – writing, or something I dream. One of my favourite art movements is the Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood – yeah, I love a bunch of old, white men that wanted to just have sex with the same woman! It was also the movement that brought us pink and purple in a profound way. I love the bible, great piece of fictional work – and all of my work has a messianic element, I think.” Laura’s notable use of archetypal figures is a fixture throughout her work, “The figure is me. It looks like me, it’s bald – how can artists really see but through themselves? I do see my work as big, pop art cave drawings. Since I was a child, my parents would take us to see the cave drawings in the country. I think there’s a comparison I draw to the culture of coloured people, Bushmen or San, or whatever you want to call it – and I see it as a stunted culture that couldn’t really bloom or fully manifest. To me, my work is like what would have happened if cave drawings became bigger, and bigger or crossed over to modern mediums. What if cave painting became pop culture?” 

A strong association Laura has had with her work is feminism and activism – having been out spoken during waves of social change in South Africa, “I think that association has been with me because at the beginning of my career, I focused a lot on sexuality in my paintings – and then it came to looking at sex not being strictly about pleasure, particularly in the context of South Africa; sex is also violence, and so just by virtue of working with those themes, I was labelled an activist. My sister, Kim Windvogel, is an activist – I leave that to her. It’s been interesting because an artist commenting on social issues is not activism in the way my sister or many others have dedicated their lives and careers to that path – so I’m cautious about having that title put on me.” As an artist, Laura is dedicated to making fantastical work; to etch the fantasies and inner-world of her being, out for others to see. If her work can have a provoking impact, then that’s wonderful – but the immense pressure for black and coloured artists in the country to politicise their work entirely is in itself, a form of oppression of creative expression and freedom. In speaking to whether this is the responsibility – and in the age of the internet, especially – Laura says, “It’s become this trope, where if you’re not talking about your identity, then what are you really talking about? Of course we should be talking about it, and there is no cut off time to talk about it – as we were not allowed to – but often then there is more to us than trauma, and that needs to be liberated too.”

Laura found herself, a few years ago, putting on shows heavily focused on violence – and amassing the anger and energy, as if she was becoming the channel for it, ending up  ill after those shows. Energetically hungover – with recuperation becoming longer and harder for her, Laura started to shift her practice, “Three years ago, I realised I couldn’t maintain it. In South Africa, it’s everyday – that anger and need for vengeance would rule my life – so I made a conscious effort to redirect my focus. I also had to stop fighting with people online, which became a never-ending distraction. People would start sending me links, asking why I hadn’t commented on something – almost demanding my voice – and that was a big wake-up that the expectations of me as a public figure were not so much about my art anymore. Since then, it’s been a return to what I need to feel safe, and to make work that speaks to whatever I want it – not what I am being told to comment on.”After Laura’s secret marriage in 2019, the last two years have been securing her vision ahead for artistic cosmology – creating her paintings as a continuation of a world that could be stitched together, and tell a story – this almost accidental nature of her style exemplifies Lady Skollie as an artist whose essence is inextricable from all that she does. We remain ever in awe.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Healing and Reclaiming Tattoo Culture in South Africa

Tattooing is considered among the oldest forms of art –  the word itself ‘’tatau’’ is derived from Samoan, although the practice itself has far reaching, global and ancient origins. It has really only been in the last few hundred years of human civilization – and by that, I mean western imperial civilization that has attempted to dominate cultural norms for centuries – that tattooing has faced a status of taboo and heresy. Using our bodies as the canvas for our life stories – our cultures, community positions, achievements and as spiritual protection – is perhaps as primordial as the tattoo tools that have been found, dating this practice back 50 000 years ago to the Upper Paleolithic era. Tattooing is innate – in our blood and bones as human beings –  spanning from the painted Celts on the British Isles to the Vikings and Samí in Northern Europe, and the Inuit people even further up, across to Eastern European folk tattooing, across to the Americas (North and South), all around Asia, and from the top of Africa to the tip – to the Polynesian Islands, and New Zealand and Australia – indigenous tattoo practices are as prevalent and unifying to the human experience as eating, sleeping and sex; ingrained in our evolution, our diversification, and migration across the eath. It is no wonder that now – with the resistance towards western, white supremacist patriarchy and all its iterations of oppression, bodily policing, and violence – that the practice of tattooing among millennials and gen-Z’s are erupting alongside activism and social change. The changing attitudes to tattoos and body modification in the work-place and in public are shifting because of those who chose to embrace their expression overall all else – and in South Africa, this shift is alive and thriving.

Still, contemporary tattooing has been no stranger to the exclusivity and toxicity insidiously warping even the most sacred of spaces as remnants of colonial programming. In conceptualising this piece, I posted a story asking for everyone’s favourite tattoo artists – and slowly, with the guidance and direction of friends (IRL and URL) – this story has revealed itself to centre on the perspective of black, people of colour, queer (female bodied) and women tattoo artists in both Cape Town and Johannesburg. On building spaces of safety and celebrating culture – I spoke to Ndumiso Ramate of Soweto Ink, who alongside Sibusiso Dlamini founded the shop in 2014. Ndumiso explains the story behind Soweto Ink, “Our objective is empowering young artists who are coming up – giving them guides and tips on the industry and to believe in themselves, Soweto Ink is the people’s tattoo brand. We also host one of the biggest tattoo conventions in Africa, Soweto Ink Tattoo Convention, and we see the culture is growing and slowly understanding what professional tattooing is and people understand what a good tattoo artwork looks like and how to locate a good artist on social media.” Commenting on what this growth means, Ndumiso says, “This is growth considering we are coming from a ‘Stoeka’ (jail tattoos or bad tattoo) era where in our black culture, tattoos are deemed to be satanic, dark, or criminal  Tattooing is for us, the healing of our people because people come with so many different stories and most of the come for closure, healing or happiness.”

Tattoo client and writer, Alyx Carolus’ free ebook Tattoos are for Everybody is a guide to being a black or POC tattoo customer; an invaluable resource, encouraged by her own experiences – on what led to the guide, she says, “I’ve been getting tattooed for over a decade now, and throughout this time, Black and brown people have approached me with questions. They wanted to know what to ask when in a shop, who could work on their skin tones and who would offer a good experience or would be dismissive to their queries. I wanted to condense the things I’d learnt from being a regular client, working in the industry briefly and hearing about positive/negative experiences in shops around the city. Ultimately, I wanted to create the guide I wish I had a decade ago.” Regarding whether she has seen any meaningful change in the industry in Cape Town, Alyx comments, “I think there’s an awareness, with the rise in social media, that the clientele and industry is changing overall. Local tattoo culture has been viewed as having one face, and one or two types of clientele – when historically, body modification has never been limited like that. People who may not have had the space to talk about their experiences, such as harassment, discrimination of all kinds, have a platform. At this point, if you’re still operating in a way that doesn’t consider everyone and being less discriminatory, it’s definitely noticed and spoken about.”

Navigating an industry that has been dominated by cis-white men, resident tattooist at Palm Black Tattoo, Chanté Brinkhuis – idenifties as queer and POC artist on their page, explains the growing sense of safety they and their clients have been able to engage in, “I’ve been lucky enough to have honest conversations with many of my clients of colour about racism and intimidating tattoo spaces. The fact that people feel like they can open up about their experiences means so much to me, because it shows that they are comfortable in the space. Getting a tattoo can be an intimate and daunting experience so it’s super important for clients to feel at ease and this energy also needs to come from the rest of the studio as well. I’ve added a “POC” highlight on my Instagram account which consists of tattoos that I’ve done on darker skin tones. People of colour often check artist’s feeds to see how their tattoos might look on their skin. As a person of colour it’s something I relate to and definitely something I’d like to see more on other artist’s pages.” Dismantling gatekeeping is possible – and for Chanté it was set in motion in the last two years; “I was turned down by many studios until I approached Raoul Goetze, the owner of Palm Black Tattoo. Raoul was quite different to anyone else in the industry I had met up with at that point. He believed in my potential and I was hired a week later. It was surreal for me, because I was so used to being underestimated. No one expects a queer coloured girl to become a successful tattooer in one of the country’s most reputable shops. It was during my apprenticeship when my perception of tattooing changed. I became more educated in its history and origins in cultures all around the world. In tattooing’s early history, it was seen as sacred and ritualistic. I’d love for tattooing in the modern day to be seen as that, or at least be treated with a similar level of respect and consideration. My colleague, Matt, often refers to it as ‘spiritual exchange of energy’.’’

Ethel Laka  was at one time the only black, female tattoo artist working professionally  in South Africa – as an industry OG, she was a forerunner in opening up the possibilities; even when this may not have been intention. Regarding her observations over the last years, Ethel says, “it’s still mainly male dominated, unlike the rest of the world where there are a lot more women involved in it. That said, I recognise that as women we have never needed permission from males to take up the careers that we wanted. I was always thrust into a white male dominated space so I recall being the only black female in south africa that was in the industry. I know that now there are some other women who have taken it up. Society informs how our businesses thrive, and patriarchy and racism have always been factors to note in who comes to my business and who does not. Understanding South Africa’s terrible past, we have yet to have notable social cohesive intentions. We are still culturally very divided, and I think it’s a crucial observation as it affects how a society views arts, expressionism, women and arts. We then need to support talent based purely on that and not factors like race or sex. Black women have and continue to phase othering and inaccessibility across almost all industries; the idea that tattooing, intended to be a rebellious, counter-cultural phenomena and yet remains as tied up in patriarchy and white supremacy as any other; speaks to the reality of both on the most subtle and pervasive levels. Ethel reflects on her come up as black, female artist – saying,it has been both arduous and rewarding. I have had to understand society so that I understand the notions that people have about race and women. Of late, I’m so happy to be experiencing a lot more black women who are taking the tattoo industry on with large tattoos and the revelation that there is an expertise to the craft. It’s not just a tattoo, it can become a collector piece that you can enjoy and marvel at for life, especially the fact that we as tattooists do have different depictions and characters in how we translate a design. So I am flourishing and some days are very difficult to get through as South africa is still not as extreme in expression as the rest of the world, but my aim is to always inspire and get people who don’t have tattoos to view in a different light that it is a safe expression and when done professionally: it can be something that anyone can enjoy.”

Ethel Laka  was at one time the only black, female tattoo artist working professionally  in South Africa – as an industry OG, she was a forerunner in opening up the possibilities; even when this may not have been intention. Regarding her observations over the last years, Ethel says, “it’s still mainly male dominated, unlike the rest of the world where there are a lot more women involved in it. That said, I recognise that as women we have never needed permission from males to take up the careers that we wanted. I was always thrust into a white male dominated space so I recall being the only black female in south africa that was in the industry. I know that now there are some other women who have taken it up. Society informs how our businesses thrive, and patriarchy and racism have always been factors to note in who comes to my business and who does not. Understanding South Africa’s terrible past, we have yet to have notable social cohesive intentions. We are still culturally very divided, and I think it’s a crucial observation as it affects how a society views arts, expressionism, women and arts. We then need to support talent based purely on that and not factors like race or sex. Black women have and continue to phase othering and inaccessibility across almost all industries; the idea that tattooing, intended to be a rebellious, counter-cultural phenomena and yet remains as tied up in patriarchy and white supremacy as any other; speaks to the reality of both on the most subtle and pervasive levels. Ethel reflects on her come up as black, female artist – saying, “it has been both arduous and rewarding. I have had to understand society so that I understand the notions that people have about race and women. Of late, I’m so happy to be experiencing a lot more black women who are taking the tattoo industry on with large tattoos and the revelation that there is an expertise to the craft. It’s not just a tattoo, it can become a collector piece that you can enjoy and marvel at for life, especially the fact that we as tattooists do have different depictions and characters in how we translate a design. So I am flourishing and some days are very difficult to get through as South africa is still not as extreme in expression as the rest of the world, but my aim is to always inspire and get people who don’t have tattoos to view in a different light that it is a safe expression and when done professionally: it can be something that anyone can enjoy.”

On her experiences as a female artist, Tanya Swemmer says, I think women in general often feel the need to work harder and prove their worth over and above what is necessary or healthy. I definitely felt this for a long time but after a few years I’m starting to ease into my own rhythm and space.” On whether the plurality of tattoo artists is becoming normalised, Tanya says, “I think tattooing is a little late to the party but the conversation has started and things have started to change. Most shops have gone from a predominantly white male workforce to quite a diverse range of people. There is always work to be done but I’m hoping that the general public aren’t so intimidated anymore when walking into a tattoo shop.”  

Evidently, change is happening – in supporting spaces and people who are instrumental to this, I am reminded of the practice of etching our skin arising from the foundations of community; and that the more we can talk, and find ways to heal, the greater we can action a future across all spaces of creativity that are led by love.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Samurai Farai whips up one-of-a-kind piece of artwork for Dutch denim brand, Denham

In Collaboration with Trailblazing South African multi-disciplinary artist, Samurai Farai and Dutch denim brand, Denham, have created a striking window display at Hyde Park Corner’s main entrance until the end of July. The fabric installation is Farai’s interpretation of Denham’s passion for design seen in full splendour using a multitude of blue hues and accents of colour. The main feature is Denham’s iconic scissor logo, inspired by founder, Jason Denham’s first pair of tailor shears. Denham, founded in 2008, is obsessed with creating premium-quality denim & approaches design with passion and innovation while honouring tradition.

Looking to localise Denham with select creatives was the intention behind the concept from Denham South Africa’s Brand Team. The team believe, Farai mirror’s key cornerstones of Denham’s design philosophy – ‘worship tradition, destroy convention’ and was therefore a natural first choice to execute this vision.

Samurai Farai is no stranger to collaborations, adding Denham to his already impressive work of projects. Be sure to make time to check out the installation at Hyde Park Corner and head to Denham In Hyde Park Corner or The V&A Waterfront, to get a pair of denims like no other.

/// CREDITS

DENHAM SA : @denham.sa

SAMURAI FARAI : @samurai_farai

DOP’s : @mziie_artist @oupamaesela / @mybizzpromo

EDITOR : @mziie_artist

MUSIC : @realzvri

Consciousness and Care with Fashion Photographer Cris Fragkou

Whenever Cris is home in Cape Town, she’s bright-eyed and buzzing – back with her mountain, the crashing ocean waves and among the humans & homies that are her first and foremost inspiration before all else. Last year – although it feels much, much longer ago – we had a conversation that I wrote about here, so this conversation is volume 2; and for a ‘fashion’ photographer (we get into that), we discuss very little fashion. This is precisely why I think Cris remains one of the most critical and growing forces in the industry, because in an uncontrived and absolutely sincere way; Cris’ work is human-centric, and fashion happens to be the art-form that she has found to be the most interesting means to capture the creative anima of people; from the designers’ and houses’ collections, to the models and street-fashion crowds alike. We had planned to discuss retrospective takes on Cris’ summer season in Milan, Paris and London – and end up uncovering the thread of consciousness that has seemed to emerge as Cris’ anchor in all aspects of her life. Perched on the curbside at Clarke’s, our conversation reminds me why story-telling and conversation stay coursing through my veins. 

Who said you can’t find enlightenment while working in fashion?

“Summer was great and being at the couture shows – I love it so much – everything that gets produced is a reminder of, ‘oh this why we do this’ in this industry. It gives me a refuel to keep pushing in what is a highly stressful, tight scheduling of shows that are months of work crammed into two weeks of high-pressured showcases.” Cris says, having landed a few days ago back in Cape Town. Cris’ IG expresses swathes of editorial level BTS at some of the most prestigious and prolific fashion labels on the entire planet – from Chanel, to Iris Van Herpen and Loewe. Cris has become a fixture in and of herself during fashion week, forging relationships – living bi-continetally in many ways between Europe and Africa. This year has seen Cris partnering with the likes of Net-A-Porter, British Council and Vogue Magazine; seeding a reputation for exceptionally lit and captured moments, often set for release almost as they happen; keeping up with the ceaseless demand for fashion content on social media. Working with Vogue to create reels hot-off-the-press, Cris comments on the changing nature of being an image-maker in an increasingly digital world; “We had been speaking about doing reels in the weeks leading up to it, and I had to remind myself that adapting and rolling with the times is necessary. This is what is performing well – and while reels are not the most artistically nourishing, I also have to be responsible with my livelihood, and do the work that has been offered to me by spaces I’ve only ever dreamed of working with. Separating my ego has been critical – and actually, I’m happy for my ego to die several times a day lately – it opens up space for spontaneity and nourishment that I wouldn’t have arrived to meet on my own.” The original concerns for Cris lay in the seemingly indistinguishability that cellphones have created between content creators and photographers – would she be taken seriously, backstage with an iPhone in hand instead of her gear? Cris says, “It comes back to this ego-death thing. I have to stand for myself in situations where I get pushed out the way without my camera, because I didn’t need to carry it around when doing the reels, so people think I’m just there to fan over the show. Asserting my ground, and being grounded enough in my work, is teaching me to value myself before I need the value of anyone around me.”

Physically, mentally and emotionally demanding – the life of constant travel and movement is intrinsic to Cris’ career. A theme she has had to grapple with is knowing her heart belongs in South Africa, but that her vision for her career has required spending months abroad – and in this way, Cris is no stranger to strong doses of existential crises; “I had one of those experiences of like, take the hard drive and throw it in the ocean – that I had never made a single good photo – and someone I spoke to early this year blurted out to me that I could never be a successful fashion photographer if I wasn’t based out of Europe. It was someone that I very much respect in the industry, and my jaw dropped – that statement burned into me for weeks after that. Every editor and person I met for a week after that, I asked them if they thought this was true. Thankfully, I was deterred from that belief – and reminded that South Africa is up and coming, it’s a prime place to be and to be from. To place a geographic limitation on anyone’s success is just the close-minded attitude that has driven so much of fashion being centralised to Europe.” 

We’re seeing, more than ever, the power and might of other regions in the world that are set to supersede the old guard and create a new way of fashion expression.

For Cris, her awakening as a being on this earth has been fundamental to how she continues to envision and act out her career. Meditating between shows and back stage for at least 10 minutes is part of her overall energetic well being – and on how her consciousness has informed the last year, she says, “I listened to a podcast by Ram Dass, and he was talking about the idea of doing our work – whatever it is and whoever we are – as an act of service to others and God. This was five days into fashion week, this past season, and it reminded me that it’s not necessarily about image-making. In my soul, it lights me up to light other people – and I have a lot of fun with people, and I have this opportunity to capture people in their full presence. I have an ability to energise people and it’s taken a long time to be able to acknowledge that. How can I bring joy to other people?” The mark of an artist is the ability to diversify their practice – and remain ever-aware of what motivates their reasoning for creating, “Just before I left Cape Town in May, I put something on my Instagram saying I wanted to take portraits of people. I managed to do it with two people – and it really ignited something in my soul. One of the people, Johan from The Other Radio – and I did this together, where we spent the day together connecting and I shot images of him candidly. It ended up being one of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had this year. I had started to get in touch with my spirituality again, and with that came a wobble around whether fashion photography fulfilled me – am I contributing to something that’s not actually meaningful? If I slow down the outcome of what I create, and focus on being present with the creation, magic happens. With Johan, the images came out of us talking – it just started pouring out of us, talking about sex, love, death – parents, pain – or getting older and relating to the pain of being an adult, and self-acceptance. We cried, laughed and my heart was racing – it was like we were creating and deepening an energy of revealing ourselves to each other. That is the truth and intimacy of art – that sharing and connection – and it’s the process I’ve now realised I need to return to again and again as a photographer.”

Soon after our conversation, Cris is off again – and by the time this article is released, she will have been in Copenhagen for fashion week. It’s clear that Cris’ spirit is perhaps disguised as a fashion photographer; but her intention and mission is so much deeper – to be a beacon of light, and an anchor in love, no matter the context or city. As the Zen Buddhist saying goes; before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water – after enlightenment? Chop wood and carry water. The divine in the mundane, and the utter joy of being human and embracing it all – is precisely what spiritual mastery entails.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

tiro! releases new EP “Gymkhana” on Roses Are Red

The latest growth iteration of talented Johannesburg producer tiro! celebrates the showcasing of “Gymkhana” at Roses Are Red. Six wildly exciting new winners with diversity to reflect the scope of his output both past and future. It showcases an exercise in grabbing hold of your regrets and turning them into art. To embrace new worlds, new dimensions, directions and challenges. To shake the past from off your boots, find your tribe and just let go for once.

tiro!’s Gymkhana is here to hold your hand, whether you knew you needed it or not. And with it comes the chance to participate in the next step of an ever-fascinating personal journey, swerving through the smoothest, most rejuvenating edges of House music and life itself via six of the freshest necessities. It’s all the thrills of a new start. It’s taking its knocks and throwing itself into the next adventure with love. So, if you’re looking for that new path too, walk it with us and let the happy tears roll like bass lines into infinity.

“Soft Serv at the County Fair”  is unassuming but playful; the perfect, tenderly psychedelic icebreaker. A rousing introduction you can only hope holds you in its enchanting rhythm forever. Or just until “For Drew” calmly begins to stir you with a mystic’s energy, expanding and contracting in its hypnotic ascending repetitions, the living, driving pulse oh-so-lightly shaking your bones. And it’s all in preparation for the entrancing Bailando Con Mis Hombres” and how it reverberates through you like the giant pounding walls of some futuristic underground disco. Where flashing lights can reach into you and you move as one with those around you. With a remix by DJ Born Again Virgin that brings it up through the earth and into hyperspace to show us the highs and lows of cosmic travel. “Fresca’s” our return to just above the atmosphere – an idyllic cloud-riding trip over the grounds of House music heaven, with a party on the front lawn of the pearly gates at night. It’s a call to tomorrow’s greater days. You don’t have to stop dancing till you want to. At least not until “Hey” Fever’s final curtain call – at which, when you’re ready, we’ll tuck you in sweetly under the stars with a long drink in your hand and your good friends at Roses Are Red all around you, smiling wide.

/// Presave Gymkhana on this Fanlink and look out for the release on Friday, August 24 at 12:01 AM.

/// Listen to the Bandcamp release

Natalie Paneng Creates Her Own Wave

Suspending oneself directly into one’s artistic practice can be a kind of metaphor for the intimacy and directness that art demands of its creators – yet, with new media artist Natalie Paneng – this metaphor is literal, and inextricable as she lends various threads and dimensions of herself (as characters and alter-egos) into all that she creates. New media art – compromised of technologically-driven mediums such as interactive art, sound art, graphics, animations video art – provide a kind of veneer behind which Natalie has been able to peer down into the development of her practice, and in doing so – has created an astoundingly kaleidoscopic, dreamy and surreal vantage point for her work to be seen from. Natalie’s work gives me the kind of feeling I remember having in my early teens discovering Tumblr – where my own sense of individuation was able to take place through the internet, and perceiving creative expression through the matrix of the world-wide-web felt endlessly exhilarating, inspiring – and perhaps even liberating. Images, GIFS, videos – creators and personas – that allowed me to sort through the aesthetic variations I felt inside my own mind. With the digital world, we can be anything; and gather all the strands of subcultural, visual and sonic material that befit who we feel we are, not just who we feel determined to be in the physical world. Natalie, shows us, the multiplicity of her essence in this regard; she is otherworldly, but of this world – inspired by genres like vaporwave, but creating her wave too – a world-builder and cosmic progenitor who brings the purity of her inner-child along with her every step of the way.

Prior to Natalie becoming the artist as we know – the plan was always to study law. I struggle to picture Natalie in the dull confines of a courtroom or performing legal administration, but I think her hope in justice makes total sense to the kind of joyful being that she is. On this, she says, “I was planning on being a lawyer throughout high school, and I applied for law at UCT and Wits – and on the last day of applications for drama and performance at Wits, I applied – it was very spur of the moment – and they only accepted around 40 kids. I did the auditions, and I got in. I had to break it to my parents that all these years of school were centred around a prospective law degree – and I was academic, so the goal was for me to continue that into adulthood, but they allowed me to be myself and study performance, even if they didn’t quite understand it then. I hated being on stage, ironically. That time gave me the space to see where I could fit into performance, but on my own terms – without the gut wrenching anxiety of being on stage. I started using digital mediums like video and editing – and taking elements of what I was learning in my degree – to envision a way of performance that encompassed me, rather than me boxing myself into a script. My first alter-ego was Nice, an online performance called Hello Nice which followed the experience of a girl embarrassing herself online, and began this process of inquiry into personas online and what digital expression means.” Natalie’s expression of alter-egos is a signature among her work – a means to channel performance in a way that is situated in the precise environment that she not only wants, but builds herself. This experience of character plus environment is a study on world-building; and allows Natalie to bring forth as much of her imagination as she can in the finest details of colour, digital set design, costume; and in all, showcases Natalie’s  immense variation of skill sets. On this idea of expressing herself through a prism of alter-egos, Natalie says, “A big part of it is wanting to be perceived, but not directly – and not wanting to always be perceived as myself. I’m figuring myself out, so characters allow me to understand elements of myself in isolation. I can present without an experience of embarrassment – instead, I can enter a space of freedom and play without any concerns. Even naming a character differently to me adds a degree of separation from my own self. Another aspect to my use of alter-egos is presenting my experience of being ‘other’ – and I always felt different any way, and I was always looking for those characters in the world, like weird, black girls that could connect to my context. So I built them, the cartoon characters or beings that I wish I had growing up; and in environments that can actually live on through the digital world, instead of a temporary show or play.”

Natalie’s worlds are astounding and enriched by cyber-stylised colours and textures – a collection of her videos such as ‘Alien Sound Experiment’, ‘can’t escape dreamscape’ and ‘Out of this world ft. Elone Musty’ stands alongside portals like ‘Something Like CoStar’ – varying aspects of a growing archive that bring together Natalie’s interpretation of cyber-genres, pop culture and technology. In terms of describing what she does as an artist, Natalie explains, “Being a ‘new media artist’ is the best way I could define it, but it’s hard to describe what I do – and that’s because it is new, this whole landscape of digital art is still so young compared to other ways of creating and making. I’m looking for the language that contextualises it within South African art, and new media is a great umbrella term to frame my practice. There’s a part of the tangible and intangible that is presented in my work – like the juxtaposition between performance, which is a tangible act performed by a real human being, contrasted in a digital and intangible world. This tension has led me to create installations and light art recently, because I started to feel like my work was quite flat – or 2D – and I felt like I wanted to draw the digital worlds out into the physical world. It’s an interesting continuation of my practice in two realities – online and offline.” For Natalie, her practice is co-current to her experience as a person in the world – and the boundaries she can create with digital facing work has meant that she can work out presentation of her art in a way that is aligned with her growth, saying “It’s funny, because I’m still not at a point yet where I want to fully articulate what I’m doing – because I don’t actually know, yet, where this going. I like this surprising aspect of my work, so I’m finding ways to keep communicating what I’m doing without having to fully speak about it, and ultimately box myself in by giving too much of a narrative.”

The spirit of play is fundamental to Natalie’s work – and while there are references to many things in her work – her art is born entirely from her own experience of reality. Natalie’s childhood as an often serious and quiet kid with a swirling inner-world is able to be channelled through the safety and autonomy that she has now as an adult – but it comes down to keeping her childhood continuing and intact, as art allows adulthood to be a second childhood; this deep sincerity comes alive in the utter joy it is to experience Natalie’s work, in a world where art seems to be a very serious, grown-up career, ‘’I’m looking for light, and I try to make light in my work – so the physical light work I’ve been making is intended to be that illuminating factor – but also the lightness of energy in my work, too. So I’ve dug deep to find my own light and my centre, and try to make what is real in my head, real on the outside. My childhood brain and heart is my source, and reconnecting with my own dreams – and the dreams of my little self –  and the older I get, the more I feel free and closer to protecting the dreams of what I wanted to see in the world, and what I want other little, weird black girls to see in the world. Art allows me to share who I am, and to not be isolated, and not have to explain myself too much; I let the art do that for me.”

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Recreating art history through an African lens with Zandile Tshabalala

“I tend to think that having that extreme colour, that kind of black, is amazingly beautiful… and powerful. What I was thinking to do with my image was to reclaim the image of blackness as an emblem of power.”

– Kerry James Marshall

Opening on 2 July 2022 at the enigmatic Johannesburg-based BKhz Gallery nestled on Keyes Avenue in Rosebank, Zandile Tshabalala presented her first solo exhibition on South African soil, titled ‘Lovers in a secret place’.

For those of you who may now know her (yet), Zandile Tshabalala is a Soweto-born fine artist and a recent graduate from the University of the Witwatersrand. Her work speaks to contextualising art history through a Black narrative – Our narrative – and is laced with her reinterpretation of culture through an African lens. I’ve been quietly-yet-ardently following Tshabalala’s art career – from nascent global exhibitions right through to collaborations with global luxury fashion houses such as Bottega Veneta, and more. I found her artist bio, posted on the BKhz Instagram, in the lead up to her first local solo exhibition to be an apt description of what her work resembles:

“Born in Soweto, South Africa, Tshabalala’s work expresses her interests in topics of representation particularly the representation of the Black women in historical paintings. The artist noticed a pattern whereby the Black woman in paintings was usually placed at the background and starts to disappear almost as if she is not present or is placed in compromising situations that reinforce the idea that the black woman is inferior and should be marginalised. 

The artist felt a strong need to challenge these ideas and give back the Black woman’s voice in her paintings by placing the Black female figure in a powerful position that allows her to be in control of her own body and the gaze that is exchanged between her and the viewer. The artist then starts to tap into topics of beauty, sensuality and the relationship between the Black female body and the landscape.”

This relationship to recreating culture according to the Black woman’s perspective is evident within stand-alone works such as ‘Lady in Pink Stilettos’ (2021) and ‘Sweetest love’ (2022), which formed part of the ethereal exhibition recently held at BKhz. The latter even introduced a collaboration with FF Rooftop Farm for the work planting the indoor garden to accommodate the opening.

There’s a new vanguard of young Black fine artists taking control of their personal narratives, and translating their work globally. Tshabalala is right at the forefront of it and ‘Lovers in a secret place’ was an enchanting experience, eloquently and expertly curated by the BKhz team. This team included the owner of the gallery himself, Banele Khoza, and his team of Papi Konopi, Kwanele Kunene, Mankebe Seakgoe and Francesco Mbele. And aside from the art pieces being displayed by Tshabalala, the main highlight from the entire exhibition is how her work invites all audiences to come engage, and enjoy, the artistic experience.

On the night of the opening, you could see the room filled with just as many Gen Z’ers and Millennials as parents and grandparents. That’s the magic of Tshabalala’s work – she has the inherent ability to earnestly relay her human experience, and source genuine inspiration from her culture and ancestry. Engaging with her art feels so honest and integral; I liken it to the feeling of finally remembering. The feeling of celebrating an extremely joyous occasion at home with your people can be attached to the same palpable feeling of excitement rotating through BKhz on that opening nigh, in which the team had create an indoor forest of living, breathing plant life to accompany – an immersive experience, situating the viewer in the garden itself. 

To speak a bit more on Tshabala’s artistry and technique – her work primarily consists of using acrylic and oil paints in order to create her signature dreamlike dark-figures. Immediately once I saw a Tshabalala artwork for the first time, it reminded me of the work of the American legendary Black fine artist, Kerry James Marshall. So, when researching Tshabalala’s discography for this article, it was reaffirming to come across the following on her artist bio on Artsy:

“Zandile Tshabalala’s arresting figurative works write new narratives around the roles that Black women play in art history. Inspired by artists like Kerry James Marshall, Henri Rousseau, and Njideka Akunyili-Crosby, as well as personal experiences, Tshabalala says her portraits are meant to “to re-represent the Black woman in a more confident, sensual, beautiful manner.”

Using acrylic and oil paints, her dark-skinned figures recline on taupe chaise lounges and cloudlike cream duvets, or are situated within teeming, dreamlike landscapes reminiscent of Rousseau’s Post-Impressionist paintings. By situating her figures within settings that were painted over and over again throughout the history of art—landscapes, sensual boudoirs, the artist’s studio—Tshabalala deliberately inserts Black women into the canon that had previously excluded, marginalised, and disrespected them.”

And the artist continues to infiltrate the global art diaspora and spread her wings, showing no signs of slowing down the creative momentum which she has managed to amass over the past few years. Not too long ago, she formed part of a group exhibition at the prestigious Art Basel exhibition in Switzerland, and is now concurrently running another exhibition, ‘In search of my mother’s garden’, at Kunstmuseum Magdeburg, a prestigious art museum in Germany.

Tshabalala is the embodiment of what it means to be an emerging global talent – a young artist who valiantly promotes her African heritage, and empowers where she comes from.

Lovers in a secret place’ is on until 20 August at BKhz Gallery in Johannesburg.

/// View the show virtually

Written by: Odwa Zamane

The Amazing World of Broke Boys

“This one is dedicated to every individual who has supported us, relates with us, engaged with us and more importantly; it’s for those who believe in the power community.” – BROKE 

With tickets selling out in under five minutes for the Broke Runway Showcase, it was almost certain that last Saturday, 30 July, would be a whirlwind. Powered by Lemkus and hosted on the 3rd Floor of their Exchange Building (the venue for Cape Town’s summer community staple, The Stockroom Show) – when Ace and the homies said fashion show, they meant it. Arriving on site was itself a heightened experience – the setup, laid out white chairs snaking around the space, giving way to an intimate runway akin to what we might see of exclusive shows in Paris held in historic buildings – were filling up with the city’s creative community, dressed head to toe in the finest looks we’ve seen all gathered in one space in Cape Town. Moments like that, make one realise how hungry the city is for events and spaces that unite all of us under the banner of sartorial expression and community; a rare occasion, indeed, outside of the nightlife scene. The room gave way to seating that felt welcoming, and with anticipation, the room filled up – with conversation and excitement brewing stronger with every second.

A slight delay in the schedule meant only that everyone could ready themselves – friends of Broke arrived, greetings and hugs occurred – with welcome drinks in hand, served by Brooks Hard Seltzer. Then, our attention was called; the show was about to begin.

Beaming into the room over the speakers, we hear the voices of the Broke Boys – one by one, recounting what Broke means to them. Gratitude for the family behind this collective (of which their apparel brand forms one aspect, albeit a central one) – saying how Broke is family, it is community, it’s getting out of the hood and towards your dreams alongside your brothers. The feeling of love was rising; and then, then the first model walked out, making their way around the room. The initial offerings of T-Shirts is a Broke staple – and a strong reminder of their streetwear roots, as profound to be on a runway simply for what the Tee means to access our favourite brands like Palace or Stüssy. Then, the outerwear – a power moment of note – and something we haven’t seen before from creative director, Andile Dlamini. Inspired by workwear and athletic apparel, jackets with phrases like “BROKE SPORTING GOODS” and “BROKE EQUIPMENT – SINCE 2016” added a new reservoir of signatures to the brand’s future, and indicates a full entry for Broke into streetwear design.

The exchange of energy between the crowd and the looks we were receiving was incredible – from the quiet, observant moments to the shouts of joy – that by the time Andile did his designer’s walkthrough and bow, everyone was going wild. The collection was immediately shown on the 2nd Floor, ready to be purchased.

Once again, Lemkus’ support for local streetwear, forged through community and collaboration, makes the possibilities of the Exchange Building unimaginable and exciting – and as for Broke? Given everything they’ve done so far, and for it still to feel like just the beginning of their worldwide domination, is poignant.

Broke’s latest collection is available to shop online at lemkus.com / every Saturday from 10am to 2pm at The Stockroom Show.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

/// Studio images by Lemkus’ Creative Head, Calhoun Matthews

/// Show images by Gidion Felix