Hanging still on a rail, every fabric looks good. Shop lighting makes every silk shine the same way, and a photograph flattens them further still.
You only learn a fabric's weight when you let go of it.
Thin cloth drops hard, breaks into square creases and then sits still. Good silk falls slower, turns once in the air before it settles, and its folds curve instead of breaking. That is how we choose fabric: pick it up, let it go, watch it fall.
Rơi means falling, and it is our first collection. Nothing in it was chosen for photographing well. Everything was chosen because of how it fell when we let go.