ChuekFang, a plastic rope made from polypropylene, encapsulates its name's essence – "Chuek" denoting rope and "Fang" resembling fragile straw. Widely used in Thailand, my intrigue with this material ignited during an internship at a clothing brand when I stumbled upon it in a local shop.
Although commonplace and intricately woven into Thai culture, it often goes unnoticed. From crafting pom-poms during childhood sports days to witnessing its applications in packaging, cargo lorries, and local markets, I recognised its ubiquity. However, its short lifespan intrigued me – a quintessentially "Thai" element, underappreciated and yet ever-present.
Although commonplace and intricately woven into Thai culture, it often goes unnoticed. From crafting pom-poms during childhood sports days to witnessing its applications in packaging, cargo lorries, and local markets, I recognised its ubiquity. However, its short lifespan intrigued me – a quintessentially "Thai" element, underappreciated and yet ever-present.
Embarking on a journey of exploration, I delved into the material's attributes by conducting experiments. Applying acid and subsequent heat revealed intriguing transformations. These trials on diverse fabrics unveiled the profound impact of varying heat and time parameters on the plastic rope. Given its transparency, overlapping the material generated a spectrum of hues, from lighter to deeper tones, even offering the potential for entirely new colours to emerge.
Distinct fabrics yielded diverse outcomes in terms of results and durability. Through the process of ironing the plastic rope onto textiles, a waterproof layer enveloped the fabric. Through further experimentation, I uncovered the material's adaptability – it could be shaped into sheets and subjected to laser cutting to attain desired forms prior to the fabric ironing stage.
Distinct fabrics yielded diverse outcomes in terms of results and durability. Through the process of ironing the plastic rope onto textiles, a waterproof layer enveloped the fabric. Through further experimentation, I uncovered the material's adaptability – it could be shaped into sheets and subjected to laser cutting to attain desired forms prior to the fabric ironing stage.
Upon conclusion of my experiments, I was taken aback by the strangely beautiful results that had emerged. The thrill of not knowing the outcome and the lack of complete control over it reminded me of a scientific experiment; even outcomes that diverge from our expectations aren't failures. Each misstep holds its own beauty, leading to unexpected yet captivating end products.
This notion underpins my choice of experimentation as my primary method. The resulting collection, aptly named "Mad Lab," pays homage to audacious and adventurous scientists unafraid of failure. The design of the coat mimics scientists' lab attire, adorned with the hues of plastic rope achieved through heat transfer, echoing the way lab coats get stained with an array of chemicals during experiments. The chaotic and unintentional nature of the stains doesn't convey failure; instead, it speaks of the beauty inherent in such experiences.
