I wanted to photograph a garment that accumulated rather than was made — something that couldn't exist without decades of small collections, of saving what brushed off and fell away. The Udege fish-skin traditions taught me that clothing can be built from patience and proximity, and Corsican pastoral culture taught me that some cheeses required specific animals with specific diets from specific mountains. When those animals go, the recipe becomes a ritual performed on absence. Her coat holds the shape of a herd that no longer exists, and she stands in a room built to age something that will never be made again. The pockets for kids — that's the detail that undid me. Still soft. Still warm. Still empty. — Lux