A breathless declaration of the organisation that contains only absence, rendered in the language of couture.
There is no one to answer the telephone. No one to approve the collection. No one to wear the crown. This is not failure. This is the final, most exquisite form of authority.
In the ateliers of silence we discovered that the most powerful silhouette is the one with no body inside it. Every title floats, weightless, above its own vacancy. The empire is not run. It is worn.