CITIZENS OF NOWHERE
So Emma, can you tell us about yourself, where you grew up and your background?
I was born in Switzerland, where I lived until I was four because my dad moved to Saudi Arabia for work. My mum and I lived in Dubai nearby, mostly because the rules around being Jewish were more relaxed, in that it wasn’t strictly illegal to be Jewish. The Emirates only recognised the existence of Jews within their borders in 2019. We moved to London in 2004, and I grew up around Willesden Green. I identify as from London, but not as British.
Your website describes you as a multidisciplinary artist, what are the different elements that make up your creative practise?
I focus mostly on clothing now as my creative practice, beading and dyeing and re-structuring items, but I also work in photography, video, and collage. I think all aspects inform each other and feed into one cohesive body, but maybe more as reference for my clothing.
Your project ‘Citizens of nowhere’ is a project is one I have really enjoyed seeing and have kept tabs on for a while. Can You tell us a little about it.
I started citizens of nowhere in 2017 as a way to fuel a lot of upset into a positive project. In 2016, Theresa May declared, “if you believe you are a citizen of the world, you are a citizen of nowhere.” This was amidst Brexit conversations and a wave of media focus on the ongoing refugee crisis.
At the time, almost all my friends were immigrants or children of immigrants. Such statements from the prime minister were inappropriate, alienating, and xenophobic. Unfortunately, every year our government reinforces these sentiments. My inspiration comes from all immigrant communities and the ability to navigate and recreate spaces and structures designed without us in mind.
Counterfeit Clothing is something that is seen all over the world however your clothes seem to be bold, colourful and authentic, giving each garment an original feel. How do you come up with new ideas and processes for your collections?
I want my clothes to hold real value in a way that most designer clothes don’t anymore. I want people to be able to wear a Gucci logo and know that their garment was laboured on with love, that their piece is unique. Fashion is hierarchical in the same way that so many systems around us are, and I feel like a carefully crafted counterfeit is a way to destabilise this hierarchy.
Your clothes take an unorthodox creative approach in comparison to big brands like LV, Gosha Rubchinsky and Gucci. Do you think symbolism and branding in a varied manner appeals to the masses or is it targeted for the younger consumer?
I think branding is a universal language. The Nike tick is more universal than the cross or the peace sign. These massive brands have superseded any political or religious body. I’ve seen handwoven Nike sandals on grown men in the middle of the Colombian desert. There could be (definitely is) something terrible and capitalist about this, but I celebrate the fact that there are probably infinitely more fake Louis V bags than real ones. There’s something wonderful about everyone claiming these symbols of luxury as their own.
Currently there has been a lot of media coverage centred around refugees entering the UK, how does the name ‘citizens of nowhere’ summarise your exploration of identity and diaspora while also existing in the category of “fashion”?
‘citizens of nowhere’ is a re-appropriation of a statement meant to insult and alienate. It highlights how separate our government is from its people. For people in Westminster to be situated in the centre of a city where only just over half of its 9 million people were born in the UK and be so comfortable invalidating their existence is maddening. Nationalism is tiring, dangerous and a myth that generates hate and ignorance. Priti Patel’s tweets around refugees are wilfully spreading misinformation, clouding the reality of asylum seeking and the human right to survival.
The UK’s treatment of asylum-seekers once they’ve arrived here is abysmal, yet British people still see their country as some sort of incredible Eden that people are choosing to come to, rather than as a last resort that may be comfortable only because of family members already settled here or myths fed to people to generate income for illegal smugglers. To treat any refugees as illegal is also a massive ignorance that is spurred by the media and politicians. But I deviate from the question – basically it’s a reminder that many of us, especially in the larger cities, are far more ‘citizens of nowhere’ than British.
Do you think Counterfeit Clothing is used as “Fuck you” and a form of protest towards the big brands in industry?
I’ve never seen my clothes as a fuck you to the industry. I don’t think they hold any irony or anger in them. For me, they’re much more a positive alternative to an industry that is responsible for much destruction of the environment as well as the subjugation of people, mostly the women of colour who are making almost all our clothes. All my clothes are repurposed second-hand items, either my own or from charity shops, and I think a cyclical economy where we become much more comfortable reusing items and materials is sustainable both ecologically and socially. Counterfeit clothing in general I think is a way to approximate ourselves to the luxury promised by big brands without having to support a system that wasn’t designed for anyone but those who can afford them.
The fact you chose to donate proceeds to Refugee Action is amazing, Why this charity in particular?
I’ve had the immense privilege of immigrating here because my parents saw it as a site of opportunity and change, but many have made their way here because survival back home is unfeasible. It would feel out of integrity to benefit from a pro-immigration and pro-refugee message if I wasn’t directly re-appropriating these funds. Refugee Action is quite a small team that focuses directly on providing legal advice, English classes, and other necessary support for people who have been granted refugee status in this country. I think that charity action only works when it is specific and oriented towards its beneficiaries, and Refugee Action does some really direct, great work.
2020 has been a turbulent year for sure, How have you managed to keep yourself inspired and motivated?
I’ve only been able to remain motivated through the support and love of those closest to me. Sewing and dyeing definitely were stabilising factors during the time of furlough, as well as a community kitchen that my partner and a couple of friends and I set up. We have been cooking 85+ hot meals every Tuesday for those who need it around Peckham, which I think was a big factor in keeping me grounded and remembering that it is possible to do good in small ways even as the world around you seems scrambled.
Your latest venture etwo is an all male casting and modelling agency. How did this start, what are your aims for the company and which brands have you worked with so far?
My friend Emma and I started Etwo at the end of 2018 as we were finishing our master’s degrees at CSM. We had slowly generated a small pool of talent that our friends would shoot for their projects and wanted to legitimise it. Our goals have always been to maintain integrity in the industry, which is difficult as there are many moments of mismanagement in all aspects, from racial elements in casting, to clients not paying, and everything in between. Our aim is to maintain momentum and stick to our ethos. Our boys have worked for Iceberg, Art School, Weekday, Urban Outfitters, and a range of independent brands and publications.
Finally, What are your plans for the future? Have you got any new projects on the horizon?
I’ve just finished writing an academic piece about crafting during lockdown as a source of comfort and intimacy – so hopefully that gets published! I’m really looking to research the unique gender role of the male model and how to legitimise the modelling industry as a whole through a survey of its power dynamics. And I’ll be keeping on making new citizens pieces, experimenting with new techniques, and hopefully moving my sewing machine from my parent’s yard to mine.
Interview by Jai Toor