79119301 GIAMI SPRING 2021 THE NEXT STORIES I'LL TELL ARE MY FEVER NIGHTMARES
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Nightmares and solitude, what may be considered the key to madness, becomes the catalyst for the realities of Giami, a designer who references the worlds of dreams and many worlds theory. The Next Stories I’ll Tell are My Fever Nightmares, initially conceptualized in 2019 and developed through the course of 2020, reflecting the adaptation and loneliness brought by the world circumstances at the time. During these moments of facing one’s reflection, almost as if two of one have unknowingly existed along each other.
With this collection, a short story was written about two characters who interact via dreams alone. The collection was reflecting the character design and the sentiment the characters experience throughout chapters, while combining the surrealism in dreams, such as the arm sling muff handbag, sleepwear silhouettes and disorganized layering.
Themes of humanity, identity and bleak realities. Exploring visual works such as Dai Sato’s Ergo Proxy 2006 (Giami’s Pino Bonnet named after Pino Auto Reiv) and Chiaki J. Konata’s Texhnolyze 2003, becoming transcendental and key influences to the collection, were also parallel to the designer’s philosophies and physical environment at the time. In addition to the masterful writing of these works, the color palette and soundtracks were pivotal to world building for the collection. Soundtracks for the previously mentioned and more works were curated into the 79113901 playlist, at 4 h 44 min length, the playlist was intended to be played in order for a cinematic feel to real life.
Last time I felt intensity.
Last time I felt like I was a real vessel with a pulse.
Wasn’t anywhere anyone would call real. 
Define real as tangible, not imagined.
Well, last time I felt I was a real vessel,
Was in that world.
Premonitions haunt me, fears haunt me. 
Here, words translate to physical,
Old pain becomes new pain.
Nightmares used to frighten me,
Now nothing excites me more than my own fiction.
But I’m not so dim, you see,
This world warns me
About you, and them.
Here, where time bends,
Seeds from the past and future have sprout.
The silenced words and words yet to be spoken.
Here, I’ve died in the hands of others,
I’ve died in my own.
Only alive in memories,
Being forgotten is as bittersweet as death.
This is my fifth life.
And there’s another me,
Standing at the end of Ground Five.