The idea came from a stack of early-2000s rock posters we had picked up at a flea market — faded gig flyers with wings and gothic type bleeding through cheap newsprint. We kept coming back to one detail: how the ink had aged unevenly, sun-bleached in some spots and still saturated in others, like the poster had been fighting to survive. We rebuilt that decay on purpose, sketching a gothic cross in blackletter and surrounding it with wings that felt like they'd been torn straight off an old backstage pass. Grey felt too quiet on its own, so they pushed one version through a hot pink filter just to see — and the clash stuck immediately, the magenta reading like a bruise blooming under the grunge. We named it "Abyss" for the way the scrollwork seemed to fall backward into the fabric, like it was fading into the dark as much as flying out of it. Set on washed black, cropped and fitted, it became the collection's answer to the question: what does falling apart look like when it's beautiful?