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 /* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
	mso-style-noshow:yes;
	mso-style-priority:99;
	mso-style-parent:"";
	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
	mso-para-margin:0in;
	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
	font-size:12.0pt;
	font-family:Helvetica;}
 
     I am interested in the uniform as an identifier; it gives clues to one’s occupation and function within a society, and by equating occupation with identity, becomes the signifier through which identity is assumed. As a result, culture and personal history are subverted, while one’s societal function equates to personal identity. There is a discord between my awareness of this, and my appreciation of the uniform as a garment produced to make its wearer comfortable in his or her occupation. As I think of my industrial hometown, its architecture, and its inhabitants, my personal nostalgia becomes a lens through which a uniform no longer represents only its functional attributes. This romanticized uniform does not replace the individual, but is interrelated .   Found fabrics are erased and transformed, the grid of the cloth itself is disrupted, replacing consistency with specificity. A single line forms into a net, reiterating the ideal of the grid while simultaneously defying it due to its malleability. The net is able to hold the ice, but only to a point – its supportive yet transparent nature only allows the ice to be contained for a certain amount of time. All materials involved change into a new form, speaking to the subjectivity and inconstancy of memory.
       
     
 Images 1 and 2 photographed by KangHee Kim; the rest photographed by Maxime La.
       
     
LolaBorovyk_01.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_02b.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_04.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_07.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_12.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_10.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_13.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_14.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_21.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_22.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_23.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_25.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_29.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_27.jpg
       
     
   
  
 
  
    
  
 Normal 
 0 
 
 
 
 
 false 
 false 
 false 
 
 EN-US 
 JA 
 X-NONE 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 /* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
	mso-style-noshow:yes;
	mso-style-priority:99;
	mso-style-parent:"";
	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
	mso-para-margin:0in;
	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
	font-size:12.0pt;
	font-family:Helvetica;}
 
     I am interested in the uniform as an identifier; it gives clues to one’s occupation and function within a society, and by equating occupation with identity, becomes the signifier through which identity is assumed. As a result, culture and personal history are subverted, while one’s societal function equates to personal identity. There is a discord between my awareness of this, and my appreciation of the uniform as a garment produced to make its wearer comfortable in his or her occupation. As I think of my industrial hometown, its architecture, and its inhabitants, my personal nostalgia becomes a lens through which a uniform no longer represents only its functional attributes. This romanticized uniform does not replace the individual, but is interrelated .   Found fabrics are erased and transformed, the grid of the cloth itself is disrupted, replacing consistency with specificity. A single line forms into a net, reiterating the ideal of the grid while simultaneously defying it due to its malleability. The net is able to hold the ice, but only to a point – its supportive yet transparent nature only allows the ice to be contained for a certain amount of time. All materials involved change into a new form, speaking to the subjectivity and inconstancy of memory.
       
     

I am interested in the uniform as an identifier; it gives clues to one’s occupation and function within a society, and by equating occupation with identity, becomes the signifier through which identity is assumed. As a result, culture and personal history are subverted, while one’s societal function equates to personal identity. There is a discord between my awareness of this, and my appreciation of the uniform as a garment produced to make its wearer comfortable in his or her occupation. As I think of my industrial hometown, its architecture, and its inhabitants, my personal nostalgia becomes a lens through which a uniform no longer represents only its functional attributes. This romanticized uniform does not replace the individual, but is interrelated.

Found fabrics are erased and transformed, the grid of the cloth itself is disrupted, replacing consistency with specificity. A single line forms into a net, reiterating the ideal of the grid while simultaneously defying it due to its malleability. The net is able to hold the ice, but only to a point – its supportive yet transparent nature only allows the ice to be contained for a certain amount of time. All materials involved change into a new form, speaking to the subjectivity and inconstancy of memory.

 Images 1 and 2 photographed by KangHee Kim; the rest photographed by Maxime La.
       
     

Images 1 and 2 photographed by KangHee Kim; the rest photographed by Maxime La.

LolaBorovyk_01.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_02b.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_04.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_07.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_12.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_10.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_13.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_14.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_21.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_22.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_23.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_25.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_29.jpg
       
     
LolaBorovyk_27.jpg