Remove the three letters, ignore the branding and the sportswear stripes. Take the pieces that no one dares to buy. Remove your clothes. Let the thoughts behind those garments uncover you. /HORST
The Raf Sandior universe is a hermeneutic one. This time, he payed homage to himself. More precisely, the last two years. The cocky statement of self-reflection. The sailor flap jacket. The uni-denim-form. The patch, the sleeve, wet stray boy hair. Masturbational. /HORST
Longing for perverse contrast stitching. Like Junya would do. Or Rei for that sake. Plain boring (Miuccia), innocent and boyish (Patrick) and workwear denim gone shizo-radical (Liam). Another top three. /HORST
They are coming. Mummified youth culture and shredded patchwork phantoms, miraculously not falling apart (Asai). They are twisted. Historic crochet sisters and fanatical knit nuns. Meet Marie Pearl Harbor (Harry). They are angry. Transparent tattoo bikers and religious tomboy boxers (Flora). /HORST
Transgender aunts in strapless bustier gowns, workwear denim and floppy heads. The sexual revolution of a farmer's confused son (Andrew). The circus is in town and every male prostitute is going. An oriental silk costume drama with eruptive ending (Michael). Working 9 to 5 at the redlight wallstreet. Where horny investment bankers wear pinstripe suits and dragon tattoos, mixing business with pleasure (Ed). /HORST
What started between Sarah and Jürgen in an intimate home story, has been picked up and processed in a labour of love between Raf and Sterling - just to be shot again, with Alasdair washing the acid dishes. /HORST
While icon of domestic (supression) and household chores of 1950s Germania/Americana, the apron bares both - a sensitive and brutal subtext, once put into male context. The butcher, the craftsman, the sculptor. Put shortly, the misunderstood artist on the threshold from genius to madness. /HORST