I love the fact Raul Lopez trucks a few parlour palms into whichever venue he decides to show his Luar wares. It’s like a piss-take on a salon setting, a nod and a wink to tropes of fanciness which, like so many other received notions and accepted ideas, Lopez seeks to gleefully invert. Why can’t feathers not only smother a dress, but sprout from cuticles and eyelashes? And for all genders alike, no constraints, no boundaries.

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