My Graduate collection explores themes of childhood, primary school uniforms, magpies, and collecting, in response to women's learnt fear of men. Gingham dresses and pleated skirts from British primary schools feature heavily, using larger scales and vibrant colours to reconnect with my inner child. Childhood memories often seem larger than life, and my experiments with scale reflect this. I researched badge-making politics, specifically the juxtaposition between a badge for a birthday and a badge for a political figure. For children, badges are valued for their colour and fascination, not their content. The collection aims to be seen through a child’s eyes: pink, shiny, big, and at times interactive. However, a closer look reveals a darker context. In the 4th look, I created an interactive storyboard with childlike illustrations depicting: ‘A woman is approached by a man. the man begins to get a bit scary. the woman is sexually assaulted. The woman is distraught. The women are angry. Really fucking angry. The women have a plan. The women are going to kill all men… or they are going to reeducate them. The women have won. They are queens again. The men are happy.’ The badges feature AI-generated, warped images of male figures, capturing the essence of the scary man and symbolising women's universal experience of fear. These men are hidden in plain sight, and although it's not all men, the uncertainty is imposed. Wearing these faces on badges warns other women and reclaims power. The storyboard functions as a fictional utopia, a wished-for fantasy. All my textiles were hand-printed using various techniques to create gingham from scratch. Large ginghams were made with tulle strips appliqued to cotton fabrics. The AI men on the badges also appear on digitally printed fabric. Another motif was beading with lost earrings, nodding to a child’s magpie behaviour, as if the works are nests of found objects.