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T. Green

T. Green thinks through fabric. Works slow, lets shape and texture lead the way. Clothes come from personal moments and quiet attention. They carry mood without explaining it. Architecture, books, and small details all find their place in the process. Materials feel familiar—used, soft, easy to wear. The pace stays calm. Some edges are left open, some seams kept visible. There’s a sense of balance that holds everything together. The work feels steady, not finished in a perfect way, but in a way that makes sense. Each piece comes from looking closely and letting things take their time.


Q: "Archive of Brutality" leans on texture and repetition. What makes fabric the right material for that kind of work?


A: As a fashion designer I understand the importance of fabric in creating specific silhouettes, shapes, textures and aesthetics. Throughout my graduate collection I researched the properties of many fabrics, exploring their strengths and weaknesses in relation to my design aesthetic. Fabrication is malleable and can be manipulated to add depth. Taffeta, a fabric normally used in bridal, offered me the robust shape where manipulations are fixated when made. Using a felting machine, I adapted the fibres of the fabric to make it appear both as a concrete texture as well as etchings found in illustrations from Dante’s Inferno.

Through sampling and experimentation with combining different fabrics to create body, I made a texture that creates dynamic tones without the use of colour. I wanted to make a conscious choice of not relying on colour to tell a story. This made me more aware of the shape and silhouette of the garments. It encouraged a closer approach to pattern cutting to focus in on the details of the pieces.




Q: You talk about depression as absence, not emotion. How did that shift the way you approached these pieces?


A: Depression is described by many as prolonged sadness, where in reality it’s the removal of all emotions, where the person is left with no emotions to explore the world with. This creates a grey experience, where life offers no enrichment. I wanted to visually showcase this within the collection. I explored this concept with three main areas of design: shape, texture, and colour. The lack of colour in my garments, where there are subtle tonal changes, showcases the small level of emotional awareness I had with depression. The straight-cut silhouettes are a direct reflection of the characters from Dante’s Inferno, as they travel through a torturous environment, which I interpreted as my own mind.

I often reflected upon diary entries I had written during depressive episodes to place myself back in that headspace to create designs that reflected that lack of feeling depression gives. It was difficult to visually showcase the lack of existence in something that exists, but that’s what depression does to a human. Using little to no colour, strong silhouettes, and textures referencing brutalism, the garments gave off small vibrations, reflecting the hopeful energy for normalcy from myself in this time.


Q: Brutalism and Dante show up in your references. What made those two stick?


A: During the research stages I was engaging with artwork, literature, music, and architecture around me that reflected the way I was feeling. I made a conscious effort not to find inspiration online. Either in person or in books, I delved into artworks and literature. This made me connect with the work and understand the minds of these artists.

Living in Birmingham, brutalism is a key part of the skyline. Walking past these buildings, car parks, and flyovers made me aware of them.

I spent time in these spaces and came to see that they depicted this emotionless feeling that offered no comfort or prosperity.

In terms of Dante’s Divine Comedy, I really connected to the character of Virgil, who becomes lost in a dark wood and is sent on a journey through the layers of hell, experiencing all the manic stages of grief, to then return to the world with what he’s learnt. I used this story to reference how I had to explore the many parts of myself that I had left behind and use them to ignite the strive towards feeling and processing.




Q: Your garments don’t follow gender or trend. What keeps you drawn to that kind of openness?


A: I have always had a different interpretation of gender expression. I have experienced the world that relentlessly promotes gender-specific behaviour and choices. I never enjoyed stereotypes as a way of living. I feel people should have the choice, and currently in society I don’t believe free will and self-expression are fully respected.

Trends are a vital part of fashion design. I have studied trends throughout my degree to build a body of background research to understand what different target audiences want in their wardrobes. However, for this specific project I looked into trends of specific garment types and fabrications. Delving into both leather and denim craft, I was able to use specific techniques to utilise classic details to create garments that are both experimental but still offer those recognisable details.


Q: The work feels personal but also leaves space for others. How do you decide what to hold back?


A: When creating a body of work that is about something so personal to myself, I check in with myself and make sure that this is something I want people to know.

In some cases, I broaden the inspiration so that it removes an individual experience or moment, making it more relatable to others’ life experiences. 

Secondly, I didn’t want to develop an idea that just shows me — I wanted others to engage with the world I have created and maybe see something of themselves in it.

I consistently check in with myself when designing to make sure I am comfortable with promoting a personal moment, experience, and story, so I don’t sacrifice myself for the creation of the art. 

Moreover, I aim to only be inspired by experience and not to directly reference it, for this allows the viewer to form their own interpretation and relation to their own experiences more easily.


Q: "Renaissance of Lost" points to confusion and change. What are you figuring out as you go?


A: Through "Renaissance of Lost" I wouldn’t say that myself as an individual is figuring something out. It’s about our collective confusion as a generation, who has all the options of the world at our fingertips, and where in this chaos we focus our energy. 

Overwhelmed in it all, I believe we are lost in a world that has never been more diverse in choice, and it’s harder to find that one thing that truly makes us happy in life — but it is possible. 

Exploring as much as possible and throwing ourselves into this renaissance is where we will find some clarity. 

Failing has never been a more important skill; failure is more prevalent as opportunities are rich in number. However, it’s still a renaissance of some kind, so let’s all dance through the confusion together.

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