DEBUT COLLECTION 2025
DEBUT COLLECTION 2025
YOUR LAST BREATH BELONGS TO ME
YOUR LAST BREATH BELONGS TO ME
1.1
1.1
11.1
11.1
“Your Last Breath Belongs to Me” is a confrontational yet deeply romantic ode to the current state of fashion. Rooted in a pursuit of possibility.
The collection challenges the past to imagine a more hopeful, sensuous future.
“Your Last Breath Belongs to Me” is a confrontational yet deeply romantic ode to the current state of fashion. Rooted in a pursuit of possibility.
The collection challenges the past to imagine a more hopeful, sensuous future.
2.1
2.1
This is a study in transformation: of body, identity, and archetype. Laced with a throughline of corsetry and tailoring, Curwen repositions these historically rigid forms as tools of empowerment; speaking to the visceral power of fashion to define and redefine selfhood.
This is a study in transformation: of body, identity, and archetype. Laced with a throughline of corsetry and tailoring, Curwen repositions these historically rigid forms as tools of empowerment; speaking to the visceral power of fashion to define and redefine selfhood.
The collection navigates the liminal space between the familiar and the fantastical, referencing history through a dreamlike lens.
The collection navigates the liminal space between the familiar and the fantastical, referencing history through a dreamlike lens.
“Your Last Breath Belongs to Me” offers an enduring moment of recognition, like déjà vu from a dream you’ve never had but somehow remember.
“Your Last Breath Belongs to Me” offers an enduring moment of recognition, like déjà vu from a dream you’ve never had but somehow remember.
11.2
11.2
SONNET Noº 1
Through shadowed halls where silent doubts reside,
We stitch our hopes in lies we dared not keep.
No wish for understanding, proud and wide,
Just eyes that reach where light and darkness sleep.
The cost of thought is blood we coldly cry,
While veiled intentions shift beneath the skin.
Fractured, raw truths, no more we dare deny,
And pull away the guise we held so thin.
In whispered nights, where ghosts of meaning weep,
A fragile hope that we might fall, not sad,
Not into void, but something strong and steep,
Where emptiness becomes what once we had.
So kneel before the shade that answers thee,
While knowing well, your last breath belongs to me.
Through shadowed halls where silent doubts reside,
We stitch our hopes in lies we dared not keep.
No wish for understanding, proud and wide,
Just eyes that reach where light and darkness sleep.
The cost of thought is blood we coldly cry,
While veiled intentions shift beneath the skin.
Fractured, raw truths, no more we dare deny,
And pull away the guise we held so thin.
In whispered nights, where ghosts of meaning weep,
A fragile hope that we might fall, not sad,
Not into void, but something strong and steep,
Where emptiness becomes what once we had.
So kneel before the shade that answers thee,
While knowing well, your last breath belongs to me.
1.2
1.2
9.1
9.1
4.1
4.1
3.1
3.1
1.3
1.3
9.2
9.2
5.1 & 11.1
5.1 & 11.1
The Collection
1.0
THE RAVEN
2.0
THE ROGUE
3.0
THE HUNTER
3.0
THE HUNTER
4.0
THE NIGHTCRAWLER
4.0
THE NIGHTCRAWLER
5.0
THE HARPY
5.0
THE HARPY
6.0
THE WATCHER
6.0
THE WATCHER
7.0
THE COURTESAN
8.0
THE DUCHESS
9.0
THE NYMPH
9.0
THE NYMPH
10.0
THE MAGISTRATE
10.0
THE MAGISTRATE
11.0
THE CRYPTID
11.0
THE CRYPTID