We don’t always choose our first skin.
Some things are placed on us early.
Quietly.
Repeated, until they begin to feel like our own.
A skin, built by hand.
Soft on the outside.
Untouchable, they said.
Tall.
Graceful.
Composed.
This is what they wanted.
This is what they saw.
Some are given.
Some are expected.
Some we build to survive.
But beneath it,
something else forms.
A shield.
A scaffold.
To hold it all in.
To let their words pass through
without leaving a mark.
To survive being seen
and being misunderstood.
This is the skin I borrowed.
Not to hide.
But to stay standing.
Sometimes we wear something for so long,
we forget we ever put it on.
Some skins are built, not born.
Some beauty is protection.
Some strength is stitched from silence.
And eventually,
it's difficult to tell
where the armour ends
and we begin.
Some thoughts stay with the work.
Others lead somewhere else.
Creative Direction: ISAID
Photography: ISAID
Styling: ISAID
Hair & Makeup: ISAID
Model: Leila Jay leilajay.co.uk
Year: 2026