While distracting myself from the uncertainty that is life at the moment, I’m getting my head back around some video I’ve been working on.
Around the Peter Scott factory were labels. They were piled in boxes, stuffed into tubs, strewn on desks, and carefully shelved.
When I worked in knitwear, we had to be very diligent about what happened to the labels. A designer would give us the exact number for the number of garments we were producing, to stop us selling on knock-offs, I guess.
In July 2018, while filming in the space, I endeavoured to pick up one of each. I stuffed them into my pockets as I went, every time I found another I hadn’t seen before. In the embroidery department, I slid out each box, removed a label and put the box back in its place. It was very satisfying to do.
In December 2018, I went back to the space, and I – don’t laugh – I actually cried when I saw that someone had been in, and pulled them all out, thrown them all over the floor.
So I’ve rearranged them. Here are a few screenshots. The words are part of a piece of writing that holds them together, and are part of a sort-of poem that’s a sort-of story about the town of Hawick.
Jessie Growden 