We sought to create an emphatically unique space to host the ritual of fitting and tailoring that most elegant of male sartorial genres – the bespoke suit. Brogen Averill had created a visual language for the label that was dark, strong and sensual. We sought a spatial experience that would manifest and amplify those qualities. Someplace sparse and raw and brave and refined all at once. With very little money.
With so little money we deployed a very few objects but tried to get them punching way above their weight. The room itself is a beautiful relic. A manipulation of proportion and light – and the stripping away of effluvia – afforded a temple-like focus. Once naked and softly lit, we dressed her in a very few pieces, pairing uncut stone with scorched oak and oiled metals. The blue of Yves Klein’s nudes lines the hidden inner surfaces, electrifying what might otherwise slip into elegance.
Of all this we intended only a darkly tempered background for the collections; someplace that would give context to their own exquisite qualities. The oak desk’s surface is roasted black with a butane flame. The scorched surface is submerged in a deep crude oil stain. Sparse, but far from empty.
This is about clarity of experience, and high luxury drawn from the humble and the found. Three great boulders, pulled from the Taranaki earth, support a six meter long table top. Three more act as counterweights to the even greater dressing mirrors that cantilever atop. The arrangement is simple, the palette organic, the finishing by hand, the lighting that of a temple. Of these few humble thing’s we hoped to make space that would do justice to the billion dollar, hand-made suits it proffers.