JUNK FOOD

I love nothing more than to dive into the exhilarating enormity of the Fast Fashun pile. So much trash and treasures to behold. This year I’m particularly drawn to items in the millenial-pink spectrum, like lost treasures in a sea of smut. The heaving mass reveals pilled childrens’ tracksuit pants, a slippery cerise satin nightgown, pastel frilly knickers, pink cotton stockings with footprints stained brown, a single patent-leather pump, a grotesque diamanté studded Guess pleather handbag from the early 2000’s and a fluffy pink ‘princess’ pencil case replete with spangled dangly princess doll.

I collect a precious and putrid pile of pink.

I resolve to subvert these discarded fast fashion items as beautiful glistening monuments to our human waste.

I resolve to subvert these discarded fast fashion items as beautiful glistening monuments to our human waste.

Jelly becomes the perfect medium to contain and encapsulate the unwanted debris. Literal junk food. Out of context, this refuse transforms into luminous sanitized statuesque shapes, their textural folds and fine details held within the silky wet agar glow.

Piss-perfumed knickers set in orbs of intimate mystique, unwanted elegance, like fossils in sap, now extinct from our lives, transformed into museum-like micro worlds of sordid sentimentality.