31. JOYCE ADDAI-DAVIS - A SPACE BETWEEN CONFRONT AND CONCEPT.

Changemaker Joyce Addai-Davis discusses her radical design purpose while exposing a truth we all need to know now.

 Joyce Addai-Davis photographed in front of Old Fadama Landfill, Accra Ghana. Photographed by Nii Ayi Lamptey (Nii Ayi Visuals), 2023.

‘Who is in my community? Anyone who wants to navigate life without destroying the earth.’ Joyce Addai-Davis.

I feel that what you have done in your degree would take most a decade to achieve - you truly are a brilliant voice we need to listen to: Please describe your graduation work?

Firstly, in order to understand who I am as a designer you have to understand who I am as a person and how my history and the moments that brought me to this point shaped me.

Being a part of the British educational system in the 90s, I always studied artists who were outside of my cultural identity. I was exposed to mavericks, mutable and eccentric creators. My artists of choice were Cindy Sherman and her ability to mutate into her world narrative using her body. Jenny Saville and her unfiltered ability to unwrap what the world sees as ugly, then present in a manner that we’re forced to come to terms with its beauty. 

If I had to describe myself as an external person looking in, I would say to you the reader:

“Joyce is an enigma, a force with a self belief that is impenetrable. There is an internal power that she draws from that to the outside world, may not make sense, but it’s a power that makes her who she is. Being accepted by the world around her isn't of interest because internal acceptance is what fuels her”

This way of being was not always there. Wanting to be accepted by the world was my way of existence. Until pleasing the outside world made me unwell, doubtful and limited my self-expression. I was a slave to kind words, being included, celebrated and living by everyone else's timing. until I wasn’t…

"My graduation work is about a Ghanaian matriarch from the 1900s named Yaa Asantewaa and her imagined counterpart/partner/husband... Whatever you'd like to call him. I referred to him as Yaa’s Boo for the longest time. However, in recent months, I was given the name by a friend who explained that 'Yaw' is the male version of anyone born on a Thursday. In Ghanaian culture, the day of the week you’re born on is associated with a specific name. Since Yaa would have been born on a Thursday, her male counterpart, also born on Thursday, would be called Yaw.

Yaa Asantewaa embodies the fight for a belief system that extends beyond self. The concept of confronting the world irrespective of personal strength or fears is the central theme of my work. Yaa Asantewaa fought against British colonial rule in the 1900s and famously said to the men of the Asante kingdom that if they couldn't resist British rule, then she and all the women of the village would take up arms and fight until death.

My graduation project examines the footwear that Yaa and Yaw would have worn in the present-day if they had to engage in a new struggle. This new battle is centred around 'Waste Colonialism' - the fight against individuals in the Global North who donate their clothing to charity shops, expecting the garments to either be recycled or find new homes for a second life. Unfortunately, this has not been the case for many of the garments. They are bundled up and shipped to several countries in the Global South, including Ghana, my home country.

I showcased three types of footwear: a boxing-style boot for Yaw, a sandal-style shoe, and a unibody protective boot for Yaa (a stiletto boot that resembles trousers). To further emphasise Yaa’s new struggle, I presented the footwear surrounded by a fabric print depicting the landfills I visited in Ghana."

I remember a key moment when you were showing me some work and you said something about how seeing the landfills in Ghana, that you could not look away - that you needed to do something in response - I found that message to be incredibly powerful - can you expand upon this sense of response and purpose? 

"For the longest time, making and designing concepts for music videos, creating costumes, and developing garments for fashion brands was fulfilling, exciting, and humbling. However, I discovered that at the end of every project, most items would be discarded as they no longer fit the intended brief. These items had zero use beyond their respective projects. This realisation hit me after visiting a landfill in Ghana in 2021, where I witnessed firsthand the afterlife of our fast fashion hauls (footwear, clothes, toys, household objects, and miscellaneous items), all piled up in a stack resembling a soup-like cereal breakfast.

Once I stood in the presence of this waste mountain, I couldn't approach design in the same way. I couldn't view fashion through the same lens and continue my life as if that mountain didn't exist. I vividly remember our conversation, which feels like it happened just yesterday. I showed you the images of the New Look shoe I found on the beach, complete with its £15 price tag still intact, even though New Look neither manufactures nor sells in Ghana. That's when I realised I needed to follow the trail and become a part of the solution."

You love clothes, and I know that we share that fibrous passion for making what you put on your body - like growing your own vegetables and eating them fresh... tell me about why you make your own clothes? 

"In 2016, I realised I was a fast-fashion addict. I would buy clothes based on my emotions at the time and then not wear them because I would encounter problems with the fit of each item I bought.

I always felt that the industry never catered to my body shape, so I had to take matters into my own hands. This usually meant buying from 3-4 designer brands before finding the right fit. It was during this time that I met my mentor, Maria Fidalgo, a 70-year-old Portuguese couturier at the time, now 83. Maria taught me everything I could possibly know about fashion, from taking my own body measurements and drafting a pattern to fitting a garment onto the body. She showed me the true meaning of couture.

For 13 years, I studied by her side, learning about the science of couture. I learned what it takes to create a pair of trousers that fit like a second skin and what makes that second skin drape perfectly against your body, creating a newfound connection between your new 'second skin' and your body. You wouldn't want to discard this second skin because it was crafted with accuracy and love. It felt like a part of your wardrobe family, deserving of protection within the larger community of your clothes.

With this training, transitioning into footwear became child's play. Maria taught me how to create clothing for the human body by instilling in me the core principles of fit, colour, and proportion. This made venturing into footwear a natural progression. If I could establish an identity in my clothing, then creating an identity in my footwear would come naturally.

In summary, the core principles of making your own clothes and cherishing them for longer align with my fight against 'Waste Colonialism.' When you understand the time it takes to create a garment or footwear, you develop a greater respect for the end life of that item. This strengthens my affection for the garments I create, as they become an extension of my body while still honouring the planet on a larger scale."

(c) ‘Yaa Asantewaa Warrior Boot’ by Joyce Addai-Davis, photographed by Melanie Issaka.

Designers who are women are often incredibly pragmatic within the work they direct, and within the vision they have - your point of view seems to have such a duality between the practical and the adorned, can you expand upon your style and what it is that you see?  

"If I'm not inspired to wear something, then I can't imagine why people in my community would be inspired to wear it either. Who is in my community? Anyone who wants to navigate life without destroying the earth. This pragmatic outlook is where my entire design journey stems from. The final outcomes—whether it's footwear, clothing, or interiors—are all mutable. However, the question 'If it can't be dismantled or absorbed by the earth, then should it really exist?' comes into play.

My style revolves around seeing people develop a consciousness about their purchases, how they care for products, and the afterlife of items they no longer desire, leading up to their disposal. My style involves creating a new kind of individuals who are mindful of the afterlife of their clothing and who respect cultural and historical narratives.

I also envision a digital world where AI can aid in reducing the iterative process in footwear production. Using AI to minimise the number of physical prototypes for a collection is a promising direction for me. Last summer, I learned how to 3D model footwear in Virtual Reality. Subsequently, I collaborated with three talented male creatives: Reiss Dendie in footwear innovation, Quinn Zaffre in creative technologies, and Percy Okine a 3D Designer. Being a woman in a male-dominated creative tech industry doesn't discourage me; rather, it propels me to adopt a community-based approach. Gender aside, a community is essential for bouncing off ideas, particularly a community committed to combating the waste crisis. Gender isn't a factor; it's our collective human responsibility to take action and bring about change.

I sincerely hope that there will be more individuals dedicated to designing in this manner. I firmly believe it's at the epicenter of genuine innovation and represents the future of creative industries and beyond."

Carrie Mae Weems, in a recent talk, advised the audience to pay attention to their work as truth is often embedded in their practice - what do you feel are the ongoing questions within what you do? 

"My ongoing questions are: am I creating from ego or am I serving a purpose using the resources I have access to? Will people derive value from this product that I am creating? What might the afterlife of this product look like? Which partners or resources could I connect with to bring my products to life? All these questions stem from a fundamental inquiry: 'If it can't be dismantled or absorbed by the earth, should it truly exist?'

This phrase essentially reflects my intention to avoid introducing a product into the world, fully aware that it may negatively extract from the earth, with no foreseeable plan for how the earth could naturally decompose it once its utility wanes. The fashion industry operates at a rapid pace and is oversaturated, and I am presented with a choice: either abstain from creation or innovate and guide a fresh mindset in the realm of design. I am not the first to adopt this perspective, and I certainly won't be the last. However, a beautiful approach to design emerges when it transcends ego and aspires to create communities and solutions that extend beyond itself.

I do not possess all the answers, and each day presents its own set of challenges. Yet, by presenting my work and its outcomes as a catalyst for genuine global dialogues involving consumers, governments, conglomerates, and fellow designers, I believe genuine transformation can transpire. This, I am certain, aligns with my truth and purpose."

 Joyce Addai-Davis photographed in front of Old Fadama Landfill, Accra Ghana. Photographed by Nii Ayi Lamptey (Nii Ayi Visuals), 2023.

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30. MEETING RIVERS: A SPACE BETWEEN ILLUMINATION AND EMPOWERMENT.