it was only recently that i understood the difference between wants and needs. it took my 13-year-old to act as my teacher. i asked her what she wanted for christmas. she didn’t hesitate:“do you mean what i want… or what i need?”

surely, we don’t need bedroom lingerie. why bother at all—dressing up in something delicate, intentional, almost nothing, only for it to be removed moments later?
and yet indeed: we do need.
and bon dieu, we want, too.

because beauty means very little without the game of looking and being looked at. to be covered by nothing but the eyes—like a prelude to the proximity of the body, and the mind that powers that body.

there is nothing quite like lingerie to guide the gaze over the skin. i like to think of it as punctuation in the poetry of our bodies. it can sweep a glance swiftly from one curve to the next, or halt it—decisively—wherever it sees fit: the nape of the neck, the softened shadow beneath the chest, the strong line of the spine, the gentle slopes of the waist.

as a virgo and a female designer, i loathe the kick of imposter syndrome in the bedroom. i refuse to hide behind any outfit that makes me feel anything but my self. i may love the architectural feel of wearing power suits—however small they might be—but since all my designs are tested and approved for you, i make sure nothing troublesome gets in the way of experiencing all of your senses. i want my work to merge with your skin and your thoughts alike, supporting and inviting them to shred at life.

lingerie like this is not a need.

it is a want.
and my goodness—
do we de-serve it.

if we think about abundance, this is exactly it: gifting your self, or your beloved, the pleasure of overflowing wants that reach beyond the daily grind of getting our needs met. i want to invite you (and me) to become an experienced receiver of this present. nowadays, we tend to shy away from being able to truly receive.
let this collection be a return to hedonism.

shedonism,
if you prefer.

moods:
Crash. David Cronenberg 1996.
The secretary. Steven shainberg. 2002.
Bitter moon. Roman Polanski. 1992.
Hans bellmer. Hand study. 1945.
Kohei yoshiyuki. The park.