OUR BODY DOESN'T FIT INTO OUR CHILDHOOD ANYMORE PROCESS

ince birth, we have outgrown—grown into something larger. The spaces that once seemed vast now feel small. The toys we held in both hands now fit in the palm of one. The gloves we wore as children barely cover a few fingers. The bed that once felt endless now seems to swallow us whole. We are like puppets of our childhood selves, caught between memory and the present. Growing up pulls us from simplicity toward complexity. Beliefs in fairy tales fade, replaced by logic and understanding. Our thoughts no longer align with the ease of playing with toys but the playful urge remains. Even as adults, we play with children to keep them company, and if we pay enough attention, those moments spark joy that resonates with feelings we once knew. Play becomes a bridge—a way to reconnect with what we have outgrown. There is a nostalgic pull, a longing to repeat what we used to do. All sorts of emotions stir inside us while growing up, from aggression to kindness, from curiosity to reflection. Staying playful is the only continuous thread connecting past and present. Growing up strips away innocence, leaving behind a longing we don’t always know how to process. The collection heavily takes influence from automata. What wraps around you is a child’s refuge. What wraps around you is the past. What wraps around you is also what you have grown out of—and what you have grown into.