The hunter crouches in his blind
'neath camouflage of every kind,
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his ecoys.
This is grown-up man,with pluck and luck
Is hoping to outwit a duck.
A primal fog seeps over our collective learned habits, and shared meomories.Everyone is perfectly capable of angst-driven behaviour because we are all trained in emotional warfare. Our animal instinct, like a well-worn survival kit, guides us through this urban jungle with savage logic. Our hearts, our dreams and our judgements are not bulletproof:we have capillary artillery at our disposal. This innate streak of violence is untammed, unhinged and unpredictable.The world maybe politically divided by international boundaries but a feral nation is a territory with no such lines, because you cant dissect human feelings of rage,for we all bleed in unison.can we combat such feelings without resorting to conflict?Maybe we keep our wildsides buried,in the name of civilized calm.Maybe ,if we can indeed wear our hearts on our sleeves,we can find a way our feral energy.
Thus, Feral Nation, revolves around bringing up the chaos within,without bringing up the negative connotations associated with it. Camouflage, in neoprene,parachute silk and plastics,is bombed with embellishments,to signify the triumph of the human spirit in the face of adversity. Sweatshirts evoking militarial and animal inspired headgear representing our inner feral nature are lined up in this battalion of looks,to show that we can tap into our deepest fears,and look fierce,without haranguing the embassy of common sense and tranquil co-existence.
In essence, this is a fashion negotiation. A stylistic peace treaty. Lets shake hands on it?