The coat belonged to my mother and is one of the few items of clothing I kept after her death. I didn’t have any intention to wear these pieces, I just ached for some physical connection with her life; something that would keep her in the present. The pieces were stored in my closet for more than 6 years and then I met Kristina Spirk by chance at one dinner party. Intrigued by Decontoured story I decided to embrace this experience.
The second I pushed my arms into the sleeves of my mother’s coat I was startled by how the fabric against my skin unleashed a rush of memories. I recalled my mother wearing it, standing in front of the mirror in the hallway and applying lipstick and then turning to smile as she saw me at the door.
Once the coat was decontoured and I looked myself in the mirror it felt as if my mother was present, giving me her approval, enjoying the way I had adapted it to suit my own personality.