“I can’t get it to close,” the woman whispered. “I found it in my grandmother’s trunk. She wore it to her wedding rehearsal in 1974. Then she called off the wedding and moved to Paris alone.”
Here, suspended from the ceiling in individual glass cases, were garments that did not yet exist in the world. Penelope designed them based on interviews with futurists, poets, and children. A dress that changed color with the wearer’s heartbeat. A suit made of mycelium that would decompose into soil after the owner’s death, planted with a seed of their choosing. A coat with seventy pockets, each one labeled for a different kind of hope. penelope menchaca desnuda
Another day of telling the world: You are allowed to change your mind. “I can’t get it to close,” the woman whispered