I spent a long time trying to say something on it. Lines about what the work was, what it wasn't. They kept coming out wrong — too eager, too self-conscious. The kind of sentences that explain the joke.
Most of them went. What stayed were the ones that felt like positions rather than arguments. Not reasons. Stances. There is a difference.
The background is #F4F1EC. I tried white first. It felt like no decision had been made. The off-white is closer to paper, to a wall that has been lived near. The objects sit better against it.
I tried putting references on the front page early on — images of things that had been in the room when the decisions were made. A storage system. A vehicle. Raw material. The platform made it complicated. I moved them to their own page instead, where they sit without explanation. No labels. No links. You either know what you're looking at or you don't. I'm not sure it matters either way — they're there for me as much as anyone else.
The shop lists two objects. Title. Price. Nothing competing for attention beneath them.
There was a period where I questioned whether any of this needed to exist as a site at all. The answer I kept coming back to was that the site is the first object. Before anything is worn or handled, someone finds this page. It should behave the same way the garments are supposed to — reduced to what it needs, nothing performed.
It will be updated when something stops working. Not before.