Dr Jessica Hemmings is a Reader in Textile Culture at the Winchester School of Art, University of Southampton. She was awarded a BFA in Textile Design from the Rhode Island School of Design, an MA in Comparative Literature (Africa/Asia) from the University of London’s School of Oriental and African Studies and wrote her PhD at the University of Edinburgh. Her first book, Yvonne Vera: the Voice of Cloth, explores the use of textiles in Zimbabwean fiction and is published by kalliope paperbacks this year.
Abstract
The observation that clothing provides us with a “second skin” has led some to question if our textiles of the future will be grown, rather than woven, cut and sewn. This paper considers three recent research projects that have addressed the possibility of grown garments through three materially and conceptually distinct approaches: the Tissue Culture and Art project Victimless Leather uses human and non-human cells, Suzanne Lee’s Bio Couture project is grown from plant cells and, most recently, Helen Story’s Wonderland project works with plastics. Through very different means,
these projects critique the reality of the textile as a second skin, propose the potential of fashion as a tool for education and self-critique and offer alternative solutions to the volume of contemporary consumption. As a result, each project can be read as providing challenging suggestions for the materials of our future.
Grown Fashion: Animal, Vegetable or Plastic?
Introduction
Textiles command an intimate relationship with the body. Our earliest known examples of dress used the skin of animals to cover the skin of people. Critic Anne Hamlyn refers to the textiles we wear as a “surrogate skin, a body at one remove” (Hamlyn 2000, 42). Hamlyn refers to this surrogate frontier in symbolic rather than literal terms, another body but certainly not of flesh and blood. Recent materials research from the perspective of art as well as science proposes that the textiles we wear could in fact act as a second skin. At the centre of this emerging research are a group of projects that explore the development of grown materials to clothe fashion’s future. These projects critique the reality of the textile as a second skin, propose the potential of fashion as a tool for education and self-critique and offer alternative solutions to the volume of contemporary consumption.
An appetite and obsession with all things new is often used to explain the excessive consumption the fashion industry inspires. Ironically, this volume has limited rather than expanded the potential role of new materials today. Outlining some of the challenges the fashion and textiles industries currently face, Fletcher notes, “Diversity of materials and ideas is hard to find in today’s fashion and textile industry. It is dominated by a large number of similar, ready-made products in a limited range of fibre types” (Fletcher 2008, 4). Seasons change. With them the requisite shifts in silhouette compresses the amount of time a garment is deemed fashionable before it is rendered obsolete. But the materials currently used to produce the next new thing in fact represent very little diversity. Fletcher notes that despite increasing public awareness of environmental concerns, “the relationship between fashion and consumption conflicts with sustainability goals” making it “the elephant in the room, it’s so obvious that it’s often overlooked” (Fletcher 2008, 117). Admittedly trends in research also come and go. The possibility of embedding technology in our clothing, for example, to create wearable computing has captivated the public imagination despite few functional and affordable examples reaching the consumer. From yesterday’s daydreams about wearable computing, current research into the possibility of grown fashion asks: If clothing could perform like a second skin, why not grow garments to a perfect fit?
Three recent research projects address the potential of greater material diversity, but do so through three materially and ideologically distinct approaches. The Tissue Culture and Art project, Victimless Leather, explores the combined cultivation of human and non-human cells; Suzanne Lee’s BioCouture focuses on the use of grown plant matter to create clothing; most recently, Helen Storey’s Wonderland project tackles the potential of dissolvable plastics to illustrate alternative potentials to the waste currently generated not only by fashion and textiles, but more simply, modern life. Each propose a scenario for the future of fashion and textiles that are dynamic, growing – and in Storey’s case retreating – surfaces. These provocative projects ask the viewer to reconsider current material culture and ask if growing (and dissolving) our clothing might be a requisite of our potential textiles of the future.
Tissue Culture and Art project
Led by Ionat Zurr and Oron Catts and based in Perth, Western Australia, the Tissue Culture and Art project (TC&A) has developed sculptures of living tissues and synthetic armatures.1 In the past decade they have engaged with a variety of experimental projects, from the cultivation of a third ear, entitled Extra Ear ¼ Scale2 to Disembodied Cuisine.3 Victimless Leather was first developed for exhibition at the Space Between Conference held at the Curtin Institute of Technology in Perth, Western Australia during 2005. Shaped in the form of a miniature coat, Victimless Leather not only presents the viewer with a very literal second skin, but also suggests that a living layer of tissue (possibly even harvested one day from our own cells) could in future be cultivated into perfectly fitting, bespoke garments.4
Catts and Zurr explain on the TC&A website that, “Victimless Leather further problematis[es] the concept of garment by making it Semi-Living.” Currently, the garment requires a nutrient solution and the stable, sterile environment to remain “alive”. While this “fashion” is unlikely to walk down the catwalk tomorrow, their point, in part, is didactic. If viewers are squeamish when looking at this work in the gallery, then it may be time to reconsider other materials used by the fashion industry that are often given much less thought. Leather, technically, is processed skin. The title Victimless Leather, as Adele Senior notes in her recent essay for the sk-interfaces catalogue, “is deliberately ironic since tissue technology as the seemingly victimless alternative to traditional forms of making leather is an illusion. The victim in TC&A’s Semi-Living version is in fact the embryonic calves that were sacrificed to provide the serum for the nutrient medium that promotes the growth of cells and tissues in vitro, that is, outside the body” (Senior 2008, 76). Thus Victimless Leather complicates not only assumed definitions of living and non-living, but also the victim and any possibility, Senior argues, of the victimless.
The answer to the unease Victimless Leather evokes in many viewers may lie in anthropologist Mary Douglas’ explanation of the margin as read through the charged and exchangeable roles of cloth and skin. “All margins are dangerous. If they are pulled this way or that the shape of fundamental experience is altered. Any structure of ideas is vulnerable at its margins [ . . .] the mistake is to treat bodily margins in isolation from all other margins (Douglas 1966, 121).” As the defining margin between interior tissue and external world, skin is not only our largest organ, but also our largest margin. A living garment complicates our understanding of bodily margins and thus, heightens our sense of vulnerability and unease. Leather is simply a processed version of this margin. Sanitized and decontextualised it seems less marginal than in fact is the case. Victimless Leather is not only disconcerting in itself, but also makes viewers reconsider materials found at the bodily margins of both animal and human. In doing so, the work makes vulnerable many previously accepted ideas, including the use of leather as clothing.
It is interesting to note that British Industrial designer Julia Lohmann’s Cow Seat takes up a similar approach by challenging viewers to re-identify familiar materials with their origins. Cow Seat is not only made from cowhide, but also designed in the shape of a recumbent cow’s body. The work offers a strategic reminder of the material’s origins often cleverly dissociated from the messy business of its brown-eyed host. While Cow Seat is both functional and didactic, TC&A use their sculptures to trigger debate and challenge our curiosity, tolerance and even ignorance of future scenarios.
In “A Story of an upper class girl, 2028” written in association with the Pigs Wings project and published on their website, TC&A playfully explain a possible future of bodily modifications: It was her 16th birthday and she knew that from today she would finally be able to get a legal implant (most of her friends had one already). She had been planning that for a while. A few months ago she went to the Implants Farm and checked the catalogue and the displays. She knew immediately what she wanted: a pair of decorative wings. Just like those of hamster-bat she got for Christmas when she was ten. The farm’s practitioner took a biopsy from her inner-thigh and then showed the scaffold design. “Would I fly?” she asked. He laughed, “Ho no, that will require a complete redesign of your body and even then you will only be able to glide. These wings are designed to go with the current fashion of backless dresses.” “What about these feathered wings?” she inquired. “I don't think your parents have the budget” he replied “and, beside, they will not grow with you, they are for adults only.” It was a regular procedure and the risk of contamination was reduced to less than 3%. The farmer took her behind the office, to the implants growth factory. She looked through the glass window to the sterile farm, where pigs with different body parts seamlessly attached to them lay in pools of clear liquids. He showed her to “her pig”. She immediately liked “her pig”. It was smooth and its skin colour was just like hers. The farmer explained that the pig carried human genes to increase human-pig compatibility. She trusted the pig to carry and grow her wings till they would be grafted back to her.
As far-fetched as the story sounds, it is important to consider the ubiquity of cosmetic procedures, tattoos and piercing that contribute to contemporary adornment today. “The art of disfiguring is not limited to tattooing,” Mark Taylor observes of contemporary culture. “As the end of the twentieth century approaches, the practices of piercing and scarification long deemed “primitive” or even “barbaric” are enjoying a surprising revival” (Taylor 1997, 85). Alongside an increasingly invasive relationship with skin, TC&A’s work acts as a reminder of the ongoing and complex debates raging around the boundaries of interdisciplinary research, particularly science deployed for decorative rather than medical means. What their fiction highlights is a time when what we now consider to be potential scenarios could become disturbingly normal day-to-day procedures.
TC&A are not alone in their commentary. ORLAN, for example, a French performance artist known for the of elective cosmetic surgery in her work recently exhibited Harlequin Coat at sk-interfaces5 curated by Jens Hauser. “Harlequin Coat is the prototype of a composite biotechnological coat, consisting of a custom-made bioreactor and cultured, in vitro skin cells embedded in a coloured life-sized mantle with diamond-shaped patterns, symbolizing cultural cross breeding” (Orlan 2008, 83). Like Victimless Leather, the Harlequin Coat makes public and tangible possibilities that largely remain behind the closed doors of science laboratories. By taking the potential of new “textile” materials into the public space of the art gallery, both projects provide viewers with objects from which our understanding of the composition and function of our material future is challenged, while preserving a space in which multiple ‘readings’ and interpretations can begin to emerge.
Victimless Leather and the Harlequin Coat also propose a particularly intimate and individual version of dress. While both works are created with the space of the gallery in mind, I would argue that there is also room to interpret these objects as extreme versions of our current interest in the bespoke. Renewed interest in the handmade is explained by some designers6 as a solution to waste by imbuing the everyday with greater significance and meaning, thus encouraging long term use. This conceptual desire for the bespoke and the hope that it will bring with it a reduction in the waste generated by the fashion industry is an approach taken up by some young independent designers today. The ethical knitwear company Keep and Share, for example, cite on their website “long-term wearer satisfaction” as an important aspect of their business. In a recent interview owner and designer Amy Twigger Holroyd explained, “We find it abhorrent that the vast majority of clothing is discarded before the end of its wearable life, and seek to reverse the effects of throwaway fashion by encouraging our customers to buy less, more special pieces, and keep their items in use for longer.” She went on to explain, “Emotional connection with the garment is inherent in the way I run the business. I want people to have a connection with me as a maker.” Although the company is not operating as a bespoke service, marketing focuses on the idea that each garment is hand knitted with its owner in mind.
Taking Keep and Share’s logic one giant conceptual step further, it is worth considering the long-term commitment a client may have to a garment that was not knit “just for them” but instead made of them. Not only does this approach to design provide opportunities for endless reconfiguration and repair, but it would also bring an end to the need for additional garments each new season. Establishing a connection with the materials that clothe our bodies is an increasingly important factor in the drive to encourage us to cherish what we wear. If this is the case, then is wearing a version of ourselves the ultimate conclusion to the idea of making fashion important enough to keep? Like all experimental research, Victimless Leather is not without its share contradictions. Nor do TC&A describe themselves as offering a complete solution. For the moment, the process of cultivating semi-living objects requires a regular diet of nutrient solution derived from embryonic calves.7 Rather than propose yet another season of changing whims, Victimless Leather could be read as a representation of a harvest of the most personal kind: skin as fashion’s potential material of the future.
Bio Couture8
Suzanne Lee’s BioCouture9 research proposes on their website “a healthier version of disposable fashion” that “aims to address ecological and sustainability issues around fashion [. . .] by harnessing nature to propose a radical future fashion vision.” Rather than another object for the landfill, Lee’s grown garments head to the compost heap when they are no longer wanted. This approach does not attempt to extend the life cycle of the fashion season, but instead accepts fashion’s desire for the next new thing and promotes a friendlier option for disposal when replacement is desired.
The BioCouture Project, Lee explains, “exploits the fermentation processes” to create grown material that can be cut and sewn into garments. The bacteria and cellulose that result is grown in sheets under controlled conditions in a laboratory setting. The final material ranges in feel from Tyvek® to tough leather. BioCouture’s creations are, in simple terms, paper. This is not the first time that paper and paper-like materials have found themselves courting the fashion spotlight. In recent years paper has made appearances on the catwalk on a number of occasions: Martin Margiela autumn/winter 1997/98 used Tyvek, Belgian designer Walter van Beirendonck’s autumn/winter 1997/98 collection used black Tyvek and Hussein Chalayan’s “Airmail Clothing” in 1999 (Deebo 2007, 248-59). The United States also enjoyed a phase of paper clothing popularity. Alexandra Palmer notes, “Hundreds of thousands of ephemeral paper fashions exploded into North American homes and public arenas in 1966 [. . .] By 1968 they were passé” (Palmer 2007, 158). A partial explanation for the decline of the paper dress in America during the late sixties stemmed from an increasing awareness of ecological issues and the realization that disposable fashion ran counter to environmental concerns (Palmer 2007, 181). Ironically, humorous tales of the flammability of paper clothing as risky attire at parties also helped to dampen enthusiasm (Palmer 2007, 173).
Where BioCouture differs from the paper fashion fads of the past can be found first in its ability to biodegrade. Lee is not proposing a disposable garment, to be worn only once or twice, but she is engineering the best outcome when that inevitable phase arrives. She is also working with a resource that is grown for the job, rather than taking a harvest from resources already in decline. This approach is shared by projects such as Ingeo® fiber, launched six years ago by NatureWorks LLC and made from corn. In contrast to manmade synthetics that are petroleum based, the Ingeo® website markets itself as the “world’s first 100% manmade fiber from annually renewable resources.” Currently Ingeo® fibers have their limitations. Low melting temperatures, for example, make ironing difficult. And while Ingeo® will compost under the right conditions, “the fiber requires industrial facilities that combine both temperature and humidity trigger the PLA to lose molecular weight, which in turn allows the material to biodegrade with the help of naturally occurring microorganisms” (Hemmings 2007, 16). Not the same as the compost heap at the bottom of the garden.
In comparison, Lee’s project is designed with the final stages of the object’s function in mind, but does not propose that a garments’ life would be limited to one or two outings. Inevitably cost of production would place these garments beyond the democratic ideals of the sixties (Palmer 2007, 170), but materially BioCouture returns to the concept that fashion is essentially a disposable margin between the self and the world. When that margin is no longer needed the material used to create the boundary can be broken down by composting, rather than contribute to our already overused system of landfills.
While BioCouture has the end of its life10 in the forefront of its mind, the project acknowledges that for research to impact production and consumption patterns, the garments it proposes need to be fashionable. Thus, BioCouture is driven far more by a desire to create a feasible outcome for fashion than the concept-driven research such as that conducted by TC&A. Prototypes to date have explored a number of opportunities including: a Denim Levi jacket dyed with synthetic indigo and garment dyed after construction; a leather-like biker jacket dyed black with the pattern of oxidized metal nails in lieu of traditional metal studs and embossed with metal wire; a bomber jacket adorned with berry colored squares and triangles dyed with fruit pulp.
If TC&A propose a living skin as a future textile, this material could hypothetically be capable of its own repair. What are BioCouture’s options for repair? Lee explains that while the material is forming in the solution bath, air bubbles often need to be removed or a lace-like structure begins to emerge. Repair patches applied to these areas encourage new growth but also leave scars, suggesting the potential for pattern making through a controlled scarring and re-growth in future. A further option may include the use of a spray of nutrient solution that could encourage re-growth and thus patch repairs. Like TC&A, Lee is pragmatic about the current limitations of materials. Long term conservation is an issue, but current substances that could stabilize the material through coating are not organic and would thus remove the opportunity for full natural decomposition at the end of the garment’s life.
Fashion, Lee admits, is perhaps the most challenging application for these fabrics. Deadlines are unforgiving, public taste mercurial and innovation not as warmly welcomed as one might assume. While many designers have played with the notion of disposable fashion, few contribute new material possibilities to the debate. Rather than see her research find application in the medical industry, Lee is clear that her eye is trained on fashion. As her BioCouture website explains, the “ultimate goal is to literally grow a dress in a vat of liquid.”
Wonderland
While TC&A propose a difficult scenario that asks viewers to confront ethical opinions about the use of animals in all manner of human consumption, BioCouture get far closer to the reality of making wearable garments available. Both critique consumption and propose alternative approaches to the materials we may one day use to clothe our bodies. Helen Storey, in collaboration with Professor Tony Ryan OBE at the University of Sheffield, has taken yet another approach by engineering garments that disappear over time. Rather than grow fashion, the Wonderland project (exhibited as a studio workshop installation at the London College of Fashion Gallery in January and February 2008) presented the public with a garment that receded over time, the antithesis of our materially acquisitive shopping habits.11
“Perhaps I have forever been interested in how things become or disappear, and far less in what already exists,” explains Storey of her recent collaborative research. Wonderland proposes yet another possibility of a materially dynamic fashion of the future through the use of polymers to create garments which dissolve, rather than grow. “We are experimenting with increasing erratic ‘animal like’ behavior, so that once the dresses have been submerged and as they dissolve, a second life occupies the water for a while longer - a kind of deep
water ballet of chemistry,” Storey explains via the website Show Studio’s coverage of the project.
Clearly didactic in purpose, Wonderland is the fourth interdisciplinary project to be undertaken by the Helen Storey Foundation. The project website explains, “It is a core aim of the Wonderland project, which began by examining possible solutions for packaging and sustainability issues, that the work should instigate public response and suggest educational projects for schools and higher education.” As well as raising questions, which all three projects accomplish, Wonderland seeks to encourage the younger generation to consider the impact their ideas may be able to make on the development of possible solutions. The gradual, engineered disappearance of the garment over time offers a poetic critique of our current material culture. Rather than isolate the fashion and textiles sectors, the disappearing garment provides new ways of thinking about all the materials we consume and discard. Storey and Ryan propose that the idea of dissolvable plastics behind the dress could be used to tackle the waste produced by plastic water bottles, for example, that could in fact be dissolved at the end of their life, rather than contribute to further waste. The pair propose that rather than leave nothing behind, “Once finished with, the bottles dissolve under hot water to form a gel in which seeds can be grown. The concept could revolutionise the packaging industry and aims to highlight issues surrounding waste plastic.”
In her interview for the Show Studio website Storey, in conversation with Ryan, explains that her use of fashion for the Wonderland project stems in part from the basic fact that “no one is afraid of a frock.” In reality, she uses fashion as a way to engage viewers to broader debates about consumption. Much like Victimless Leather, Wonderland’s garments provide a symbolic shape that is both accessible but also representative of an industry known for its waste. Ultimately this project, just like TC&A and BioCouture seeks to raise consciousness and spark debate. Storey explains the “ultimate aim of the exhibition being to get people to play their part in the environmental campaign.” Wonderland is about fashion research, but it is also about the current state of the environment and hoe a deceptively seductive object such as a dress can be used to raise awareness about issues that extend far beyond fashion.
Collaborative conclusions
In all three scenarios collaborative practice has proven key to design development from the earliest stages. Concept has caused designers to work outside the conventions of textile materials and, as a result, requires the input and guidance of individuals trained in other disciplines. The challenge of collaboration stems often from perceived differences in values. Storey and Ryan explain why their collaborative venture has proved so fruitful: “There are a few things we share. One is a curiosity about doing things differently. The other thing is being open to different ideas and being able to bear each others’ ignorance in our respective fields.” This curiosity to explore the unknown and think in ways that may not have previously been applied to textiles or fashion is apparent across all three projects. Victimless Leather, BioCouture and Wonderland all challenge fashion to engage with the possibility of radically new materials. The motivations and values driving research are complex and in many ways discrete. But each case illustrates a refusal to let our current understanding of the materials that surround us stagnate.
Notes
1 Tissue Culture and Art are part of the research group SymbioticA, based in Perth, Western Australia. SymbioticA are involved with a number of interdisciplinary projects, including in 2004 Donna Franklin’s “grown” dress of red fungi on a silk scaffold. See Suzanne Lee’s Fashioning the Future: Tomorrow’s Wardrobe. London, Thames and Hudson. 2005. Page 68.
2 See “Extra Ear: Ear on Arm” by Stelarc published in sk-interfaces pages 102-105 for discussion of the performance artist’s project Extra Ear: Ear on Arm, which was constructed in a very different manner from the Extra Ear: ¼ Scale project. Stelarc explains the Extra Ear: Ear on Arm project, when complete, “this additional and enabled ear effectively becomes an Internet organ for the body.” (102)
3 Disembodied Cuisine (2000-2003) was exhibited at L’Art Biotech in 2003. Adele Senior notes, “In Disembodied Cuisine no attempt to hide the victim is made. Indeed, the artists have suggested the animal providing the cells for the steaks would be present in the installation space where the tissue-cultured fragments of its body were offered up for consumption. The presence of frogs next to the table is a reminder of the process by which the steaks are produced. The animal is not absent here, as it is when leather is sold.” (77)
4 Adele Senior notes of Victimless Leather: “Of course, referencing the human torso in the structure of the Semi-Living and calling it leather plays on the popular assumption that leather pertains to the animal whereas its ‘living’ equivalent – skin – pertains to the human. Instead, this Semi-Living leather-like skin neither protects nor contains; it is neither (fully) living nor (fully) dead, since it deteriorates over the period of the installation, decomposing before the spectators’ eyes.” (77) In my own writing I am more interested in the poetic, rather than scientific, potential of the project to encourage viewers’ reconsideration of current material culture.
5 The sk-interfaces exhibition was held at FACT Liverpool from February 1 – March 30, 2008.
6 see for example the exhibition Well Fashioned: Eco Style in the UK, Crafts Council, London and UK tour (2006 – 2007) curated by Rebecca Early.
7 Adele Senior. “In the Face of the Victim: Confronting the Other in the Tissue Culture and Art Project.” Hauser, Jens (ed): sk-interfaces. Exploding Borders, Creating Membranes in Art, Technology and Society, 2008. 76.
8 I would like to thank Suzanne Lee to the time she gave to discussing the BioCouture project with me on January 19, 2008 in London. Much of the information from this section comes from this conversation.
9 The BioCouture project was funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC).
10 The lifespan of the BioCouture garments are as yet unknown. Lee explains that the first prototype, created in 2004 now shows several years worth of deterioration, but it is difficult to predict the speed of deterioration decades on. Much like the research of TC&A, the process Lee has harnessed for this fashion are not new. In fact quite the opposite is true. Other applications of this low-tech approach include nata de coco is grown in the warm climates such as the Philippines and the Indonesian archipelago for food. The cellulose is digestible after boiling to remove impurities, although it contains no nutritional value. Instead it is flavored with coconut water and, because of the warm climate, the water bath required to grow the cellulous occurs without the need for additional energy use.
11 Wonderland is exhibited in Sheffield 18 June - 13 July and Belfast 7 October - 9 November 2008.
References Cited
Debo, Kaat. 2007. “Paper Fashion: A Reflection on Time.” In RRRIPP!! Paper Fashion. [Vassilis Zidianakis ed.] Athens: ATOPOS: 248-259.
Douglas, Mary. 1966. Purity and Danger: An analysis of concepts of pollution and taboo. London; Henley: Routledge and Kegan Paul.
Catts, Oron and Ionat Zurr. www.tca.uwa.edu.au. accessed 07/01/08.
Catts, Oron and Ionat Zurr. “A Story of an upper class girl, 2028.” www.tca.uwa.edu.au/pig/parts.html accessed 08/03/08.
Fletcher, Kate. 2008. Sustainable Fashion and Textiles: Design Journeys. London; Sterling, VA: Earthscan.
Hamlyn, Anne. 2000. “Textures of Memory.” In n.paradoxa. London: KT Press. Vol. 6. 40–43.
Hemmings, Jessica. 2007. “Corn on the job” Ecotextile News. May.
Lee, Suzanne. http://www.biocouture.co.uk accessed 10/01/08.
Lee, Suzanne. Interview 19/01/08.
Orlan. 2008. “Harlequin Coat” sk-interfaces. Exploding Borders – Creating Membranes in Art, Technology and Society. [Jens Hauser ed.] Liverpool: Fact and Liverpool University Press: 83-89.
Palmer, Alexandra. 2007. “The Sixties Paper Caper Fashions” RRRIPP!! Paper Fashion. [Vassilis Zidianakis ed.] Athens: ATOPOS: 158-182.
Senior, Adele. 2008. “In the Face of the Victim: Confronting the Other in the Tissue Culture and Art Project” sk-interfaces. Exploding Borders – Creating Membranes in Art, Technology and Society. [Jens Hauser ed.] Liverpool: Fact and Liverpool University Press: 76-82.
Storey, Helen. www.helenStoreyfoundation.org/pro7.html accessed 08/03/08.
Storey, Helen. www.showstudio.com/project/wonderland accessed 08/03/08.
Storey, Helen and Tony Ryan. www.showstudio.com/projects/wonderland/videolibrary/1.html accessed 08/03/08.
Taylor, Mark C. 1997. Hiding. Chicago: U of Chicago Press.
Twigger Holroyd, Amy. Telephone interview 01/08/07.
Twigger Holroyd, Amy. www.keepandshare.co.uk/index/html accessed 08/03/08.
