







In today’s fast-paced fashion industry, where trends rise and fall faster than ever, I feel like we’re not taking the time to truly see the craftsmanship, the detail, the labor, and the love that go into a single garment. Sustainability is often approached in terms of materials and production ethics, which is, of course, important. But I wanted to explore a different lens. I wanted to ask: What does it mean to preserve fashion emotionally, artistically, and digitally? How can we make fashion feel timeless? So this editorial became about documenting fashion in a way that honors its permanence, about immortalising a garment as if it were a sculpture.
Three Eras of Documentation
I decided to show three distinct ways of preserving fashion, each representing
a different era:
1. The Past – Illustration:
Before photography, garments were immortalized through drawing. To pay homage to that, I invited a live illustrator to sketch the shoot as it happened, capturing the essence of the garments in real-time, the way designers once did before cameras existed.
2. The Present – Photography:
The medium we rely on most now, photos, served as the present-day record. These images capture light, texture, and movement, the things we associate with memory and moment.
3. The Future – 3D Scans and VR:
This was where I pushed the concept forward. I wanted to find a futuristic way to preserve garments, one that transcends touch or wearability. So I created 3D scans of the look and translated them into a VR experience. Because it’s not always the garment that lasts, it’s the way we choose to remember it. By blending these three formats, the editorial becomes a kind of digital time capsule.
Styling and Visual Language
For the styling, I drew direct inspiration from the sculptures I saw at the museum. What struck me most was the way the women were portrayed, not nude, but wrapped in garments that looked as if they were just about to slip off. They were draped delicately, with an incredible sense of softness and stillness carved in stone. In contrast, the male sculptures were often fully or mostly nude, with poses that conveyed strength or vulnerability, sometimes both. I wanted to combine these two visual worlds, delicate and sensual, bold and bare, and create a look that felt androgynous and fluid. The styling became a fusion of these sculptural influences, grounded in softness and vulnerability but also in quiet strength. Even the hair and makeup were designed to resemble sculptures, not in a literal, stone-like way, but with subtle cues that suggest stillness, timelessness, and interpretation. I didn’t want to say this is a statue. I wanted viewers to feel like maybe it is, or maybe it’s just someone frozen in a moment that deserves to last forever.
In the end, Immortalized is my attempt to slow time. To ask: Can we make fashion last, not just physically, but emotionally? Can a single look be remembered the way we remember a sculpture? I hope this editorial answers that with a yes.





