Blurred Borders

Between wearer and wardrobe, what happens in limbo? When matter transforms into more than just fabric.

Written by Wonne Scrayen and Brittany Thorpe

Getting dressed is what you could call a momentary lapse of reason. You can put on a specific garment and feel your absolute best, reach for it another day and feel devastated not to be fulfilled with the same spirit. So clearly, something happens when changing in/out of (certain) clothes. But how can we capture proof of such a swift moment? How can we express an interaction that literally fades before our eyes, yet is formative for how one goes about their day?

Before we know it, a border is crossed. Suddenly, there no longer seems to be a strict distinction between where a body ends and a garment starts. In the interaction of putting on clothing, they merge into one entity. Depending on whether charged with a positive or negative frequency, garments can affect the feeling that comes over wearers. It is a matter of give and take, a sensorial transaction. Initially, someone might feel utterly overwhelmed by either a pleasant or an uncomfortable feeling. However, although lingering, the manifested feeling will become less intense over time.

We were fortunate to find an individual brave enough to invite us into his wardrobe, pushing the boundaries of the liminal space between body and garment in this intimate setting. Often, a wearer’s safe space, where certain sensations can still be regulated before venturing outward, just before the boundary between body and garment also momentarily evaporates. This instalment will offer insight into Jonas’ sartorial doings. The outset never being to find a final look. By the end, he’d be back wearing what he had on at the start of our visit. What he did by changing in and out of the clothes of his choice was demonstrate the moment embodiment takes place, whilst talking us through this experience.

By capturing his practices of getting dressed, including the habits and rituals involved, as well as documenting reflections on his wardrobe and the interactions with it, we obtained images that document these very minute moments in which certain feelings come to the surface. Practically invisible to the eye, yet registered fully within the body. The difficulty of capturing and articulating bodily sensations is, in part, reflected in the atmospheric images. The blurriness, generally considered flawed by societal norms, serves as a visual keepsake of the blurred boundary between body and garments.

CHAPTER #1

FADE IN:
[ home of Jonas, January 14th 2025 ]

BLURRED BORDERS, FIRST TIME AROUND

[ Jonas seems searching yet decisive in his actions; taking off his shoes, ready to get changed, keen to walk us through the contents of his wardrobe, or perhaps to get it done and over with — that remains to be seen. However, he’s rigorous, to say the least: meticulous in his choices, movements, and actions, even in his words. Slightly hesitant at first, but soon warming to the project’s concept and accompanying entourage, he now fully welcomes us into his wardrobe space. ]

DISSOLVE TO:

WARDROBE

[ Unsure at first where to start, he then promptly sets course for a long faux fur coat. As if he feels understood by the garment, he eagerly puts his arms through the sleeves. ]

JONAS

As an avid Sex and the City fan, I channel my inner Carrie Bradshaw whenever I wear this coat. Which is only twice a year: religiously, the 1st of January, and once at home in front of the mirror. On New Year’s Day, I’ll only ever venture out to run some bare-essential errands. A mundane task that needs doing, regardless of it being a holiday. But putting on this coat, I feel wrapped in a splendidness that delivers on the spirit of New Year’s. And so, whenever I’m in a slump and feel like I could do with a dose of confidence, I reach for this thrifted beauty. Usually, that only happens once a year. It is perhaps unfortunate, as some might say, that I wear this coat not so rarely. However, I see it as being sparing on its innate vigour. Not lavishly scattering it around, but preserving its pristine honour.

[ Next up, he singles out a waistcoat. A slight haze of hesitance seems to come over him right before the fabric settles onto his body, which affects his determination from just a moment ago. But as quickly as it came, it vanishes, back to his straight face, which is one of contentment. ]

JONAS

I suddenly felt filled with doubt: whether it would still fit, something I didn’t consider at first. You see, I haven’t reached for it in a while. Maybe a bit tighter now than it once was, but still wearable. And I should actually wear it again. It’s such a versatile piece, classic enough for it to work for my job, but equally appropriate for a special occasion. When it comes to picking an outfit, that’s always at the top of my mind: to always be prepared for any given occasion. It needs to be suitable for work, yes, but I should also be okay with the thought of going out for a nice evening. I have moved past the feeling of perhaps being overdressed.

[ As the visit unfolds, Jonas comes into his own, finding a sense of ease. He visibly changes into a more confident version of himself — or, for those who know him, just the blatant and unapologetic version of himself. ]

JONAS

I don’t reach for this jumper that often anymore. But it’s nice to know it is within arm’s reach when I seek a soothing sense of comfort. Until a few years ago, I was very into oversized fits. Whereas now, I much prefer form-fitting silhouettes. I’ve noticed that I have grown with my wardrobe; it’s both a need and a want. In the past, I’ve wasted a lot of money; still young, quantity was what mattered most to me. Gradually, I shifted my mindset into buying better versions or alternatives of those pieces I knew I loved and wore relentlessly. Where I used to be more nonchalant, you could say, I now show more respect for my garments. Over the past few years, my wardrobe hasn’t expanded much. What I bought nine out of ten was a replacement or upgrade of something I already owned in some way, shape, or form. Despite what many people think or assume, my wardrobe isn’t all that abundant.

[ It suddenly dawns on him that he’s more sentimental about his wardrobe and its content than he might have initially thought. Unconsciously, he lets down his guard and uncovers this vulnerability rooted in strength and fortitude. It is, in fact, about more than just clothes for him. ]

JONAS

Growing up, I didn’t have much, compared to others, I mean. And, because my wardrobe space is part of my living area, I have a bit of a difficult time when people come by and see that it’s quite curated. I suppose I’m naturally gifted to combine things cleverly, which makes it appear that I own more than I do. However, with my actual wardrobe being rather limited in quantity, it sometimes feels like it doesn’t match others’ image of me. This might make no sense at all. I guess, there’s this fear almost of ‘letting people down’ by owning too little, or for it all to be too simple. It stems back from my childhood, this feeling I had growing up, which I don’t particularly like to be reminded of.

[ Quickly soothing himself, he gets on with things; this time, reaching for some accessories lingering on a shelf opposite his clothing rails. Whilst fiddling with a cuff, he contemplates which items speak to him most and whose back stories he’ll share next. ]

JONAS

As you might have noticed, my attire mainly features black and white. Colour isn’t that much a part of my wardrobe, if not to say none. However, from time to time, I do like to inject a pop of colour into an outfit through accessories. Take this scarf, for example. Coloured accessories are something I’m okay with, mainly because the look is not so permanent. The moment the colour gets to me and starts to feel uncomfortable or intrude on my sense of self, I can easily ‘lose’ it. Something that’s quite literally lost on me are sunglasses. Somehow, I always manage to lose them. Therefore, I don’t wear them as often as I would maybe want to.

[ Spotting one pair in particular, he turns to the clothing rail at the far right, where he keeps all his jackets, making up the bulk of his wardrobe. In full swing of putting on a long leather coat, paired with the narrow-shaped sunglasses he took off the shelf, he pulls off a Matrix-esque look with such ease that it almost seems his second nature. ]

JONAS

The coat is rather heavy, which makes it less convenient, especially as an outerwear piece. It’s also not the most practical as it doesn’t fit my phone or any other bigger items I might need to carry around when leaving the house. For some reason, there is a sort of double stitching to the pockets, which makes it virtually impossible to put anything in them. I’m hyper aware of this ‘flaw’ whenever I wear it. At the same time, it has become part of the wearing experience: hands in pockets, trying to make sense of the intricacy of what might have gone wrong when mending what supposedly once was a pocket hole.

[ As the visit slowly wraps up — having shared his wardrobe with us — he grabs a couple of items, which he then redirects to a pile in the back corner of one rail. The decisiveness indicative of his wardrobe personality is equally telling in his approach to parting ways with certain garments. In the blink of an eye, he now knows when something no longer serves him as it once did. ]

photography by Hadewijch Bosmans . 2025