The trousers arrive in a state of handsome decay, gently feral, the evidence of an affair with velocity. Glossy brown satin overrun by a matte distressed layer made out of the rusty tar residue of a motorbike rendezvous that ended in sparks. Fashion as aftermath. Revealing the beauty of surfaces that have survived something, these trousers stage damage as desirability. A patina of mischief. With Long sliced front zippers the sculpted flared fit kicks out with intention, as if speed were still trapped in the hem.