And as the sun sets over the broad cosmopolis, we withdraw to the wild and windy moor, not to retreat but to regroup. Braced against the prevailing wind, melancholic in mood, we subsume ourselves within the rugged and the romantic. Enwrapped, enrapt, we wander these lonely lands, tapping into the spirit of resilience in the crunch of the bracken and the spiny gorse.
Thou, Nature, art our goddess! To thy laws our services are bound! Here on the blasted heath we offer no fealty to the new rules of society, of culture, of couture – our resistance is not passive, but subversive. With disruptive patterns and mossy felted wool, we camouflage ourselves; with waxed tarpaulin, we protect ourselves; with flowing silks, we embody the freedom of the rolling mist. In these untamed uplands there is eternal certainty – now is the time to refresh our minds and recalibrate our wardrobes with the raw power of nature.