Black Material Geographies
Episode 9
Redesigning Supply Chains
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
In the final episodes of this season of Black Material Geographies, I want to sharpen the focus on regenerative textile and fiber systems. The first eight episodes reveal how the systems responsible for the materials of our everyday lives, intersect with supply chains, culture and history. In episodes nine and 10, I ask the questions, how are these systems being changed, and who's changing them? I would recommend you go back and listen to the first episodes, if you haven't already.
Global supply chains are central to our modern lives. Every product, be it food or clothing we come in contact with has a supply chain. Most clothes have global supply chains so complex that it's impossible to find out who makes your clothes or how many thousands of miles they have to travel before they get to you.
A supply chain is the sequence of processes involved in the production and distribution of a commodity. Although we often think of commodities as non-human things, as we learned in the last episode, Black people were treated as commodities during slavery. And in fact, one of the most significant supply chains in human history was the transatlantic slave trade.
Welcome back to Black Material Geographies. This is a show that uses Blackness as a lens to explore material culture and the overlooked people making more sustainable futures. My name is Teju Adisa-Farrar. And I am speaking to you from Lenapehoking also known as Brooklyn, New York.
Redesigning supply chains begins with recognizing how they currently make the people who make our stuff and the environments they come from, invisible. Last episode, Anna Kesson talked about how visualizations of the violence of plantation slavery impacted white people's perceptions of consuming cotton products. Seeing the violence of how something is made compels people to try to find other ways to make them.
When we know who, how and what resources are involved in making the materials of our lives, we're able to appreciate them more. We are able to see the various skills, labor, and geographies involved in creating our products. Centering the humans who make our stuff and their communities is an important way to reimagine supply chains.
In my conversations today, I hope to show that different methods exist for making clothes, bags, and shoes. Some of the people I talk to are actively engaged in and leading the creation and use of alternative supply chains. Due to the work being done to reinvent how we get and make our clothes, we are no longer able to ignore the damaging effects of traditional production supply chains. We no longer have any excuses to ignore the need to change how products are created.
To gain a deeper understanding of this, I spoke with Tameka Peoples, founder of Seed2Shirt, about the importance of Black supply chains. I also chatted with Ibada Wadud, who is a designer and professor at Parsons School of Design. Finally, I talked with Baily Rose, the fitter and founder at Tailors Union, and sustainability advisor and creative entrepreneur, Latoya Ramos.
Just a little over 150 years ago in this country, Black people's bodies were seen as a commodity and our labor undergirded global supply chains. In many ways, Black culture is still commodified though, we are largely excluded from the stages of the supply chain that garner the most value.
In terms of our clothes, usually Black people are in the lower rungs of the supply chain or nowhere at all. So part of reimagining supply chains is meaningfully including and acknowledging Black people at all levels. This is exactly what Tameka Peoples and Seed2Shirt is trying to do.
Tameka Peoples:
I'm Tameka Peoples. I'm founder of Seed2Shirt. I am originally from Sacramento, California, but I am speaking to you all today from the Central Coast of California.
The larger part of my work is running and operating Seed2Shirt and some efforts within our farmer enrichment program. Seed2Shirt is a company that produces ethical, sustainable blank T-shirt apparel line out of a all African, African American production value chain, which means we source the cotton from Black farmers in Africa. So we were just very intentional about creating a space where we could be creators and visionaries within the apparel industry in a different way.
I also support the very farmers who we source our cotton from, in order to make those T-shirts. What I mean by support is we've developed a full farmer enrichment program that takes a look at what are some of the needs of the cotton farmers, whom we're working with and sourcing from, and actually working on identifying and conquering those needs. I guess I hate to say conquering, but supporting the needs of those farmers, which we often find are simple things like mechanization, ways to think better about soil and regenerative agriculture in their spaces.
So we really wanted to immerse ourselves in being a part of the solution, not only for the African diaspora people around the globe, but certainly those who are closest to the land and soil. And we thought that a program that was really centered around them is the best way to do that.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Centering the people closest to the land is a vision for the future. Rather than placing most of the value on the final product, it is placed on the people making the products as well as their relationship to the land and the land itself.
Tameka Peoples:
Could the cotton that goes into these shirts be from Black farmers? And because we're very concerned about the impact on planet, fashion's impact on planet, we wanted those shirts to be made with organic cotton if possible. So it really sends me and the team on this journey of trying to find those three things in a T-shirt line. So that's really what started it.
Black peoples for generations have really been inspirers of fashion and creators of fashion. But when I peeled that onion back a little bit, we also were makers and architects of creation around the cotton gin and cotton. And so I just thought, why were we not in these spaces anymore?
And when I think about spaces, I mean a true production center. Is there a reason why this didn't exist in our community? Of course, if you do your research, you will find that we had centers of excellence and brilliance, and it was systemically, violently taken from our communities. And then we were relegated, if you will, into these consumer classes or working classes.
And I just thought, well, there's got to be a way that we can look at rebuilding this in our community. I know that we have amazing seamstresses still, where are they at? I know that there's an ability to intentionally source, how do we do that? So I just wasn't willing to accept the current position nor the narrative that we can't do this.
I started to find my tribe, as they say. The more I did this work, the more I found that other people were also doing the work and also wanted to see something like this come to light. And we're doing similar models.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Ibada Wadud's brand, LULAH also developed from a gap that she saw.
Ibada Wadud:
So Lulah's actually my mom's birth name. I named the brand for her. She grew up in Jim Crow, North Carolina, and I think had a fairly traumatic experience as a child in terms of racial trauma. I think it's hard for me to really respect or listen to anyone who isn't able to acknowledge that we're actually no generations removed from any of this because it's still happening, but just one generation removed specifically from Jim Crow. It's wild.
So she raised my two sisters and I as a single mom. And we grew up in Washington, DC, as a result of her not wanting us to have that experience that she had to have. She just always carried this coach bag and it was so great. She worked at the NIH in DC, which now everyone knows because of the pandemic.
But she was just always really mindful of her appearance and I loved that. I loved that she had that pride. I think everyone deserves nice things and that's what she taught me. So that was a really big part of thinking about the brand for me and what I wanted to offer my customer.
That was one of the first things I figured out was I knew what the design was going to be. I knew that there was this gap, this really great opportunity in handbags. There were not enough handbags that were well-made and considered to be higher end, fine leather goods that had adequate functionality. And I really wanted that.
I want to be able to wear something that I think is really beautiful that also moves the way that I need to move. So I'm definitely the person that wants always to find that sweet spot between beauty and functionality.
And even in my role at Kate Spade, that was a big part of what I did was making sure that design was definitely happy and that their perspective was coming through, hopefully, but that we were keeping in mind limitations, whatever those may be, just based on resources that are available that impact quality and other things.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Resources, quality and geography are crucial in redesigning supply chains, especially recognizing the places where resources have been extracted from unfairly and the impacts this has on geographies and communities. As Tameka refined Seed2Shirt's vision of an all Black sustainable supply chain, she immediately thought to go to the place where most of the world's resources come from and has a rich lineage of agricultural ingenuity.
Tameka Peoples:
I know that we can do this and we can do it somewhere else. Where would that be for me? Unequivocally, it was going to be Africa. I know that I was beginning to walk in my purpose. What you will find though is 90% of that cotton that's produced in Africa, which is produced in many regions, predominantly West Africa, but there's some South African production, that is mostly exported to other countries to be refined.
I started to get these confirmations every time I was thinking, oh man, there's no way. So every step of the way I was being confirmed from production teams to the union of cotton producers saying, "Yes, we can get some barrels, here's how long that will take." Just every step of the way it became confirming by those who were either doing the work or would be a benefactor of the work that this was needed, it could be done, it's possible, and people wanted this.
So our African conglomerate business folk in the cotton space are traditionally used to dealing with European, Belgium, UK, US, maybe some Chinese, and so when I sat at the table across from the minister of agriculture for Burkina Faso and talked about, not only the vision of sourcing the cotton, but really the vision about working with his farmers, obviously I was nervous and honored, of course.
There was a dialect issue. Every step of the way you have this interpreter. So I had a French interpreter, still have a French interpreter on my team. And so I was always nervous about the perception of Black business people dealing with our African brothers and sisters, which we know we're all of the same people, but there's a different cultural barrier and challenge that we have to overcome.
So I was just nervous, but I can tell you, very eye opening. And our African brothers and sisters who are in this space and looking to also find these connections, were very welcoming and ready and saying to me, "Hey, we've been waiting for you. You're home. Let's talk about how we can work together."
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
The continent of Africa is filled with traditional craftspeople and artisans, but is rarely recognized for all of the aesthetic and decor value that it adds to the world. As Tameka says, working together to transform supply chains is about finding ways to include those of us who have been systemically excluded or forgotten.
Ibada also spent some time working in East Africa before refining the idea for her brand LULAH. This and other travels inspired Ibada to transform who was included in supply chains and how they are included.
Ibada Wadud:
So my work really just exists at this intersection of many, many things. It's at this intersection of design and business and how design can be leveraged as a, I would say, framework for better business practices, but also just more socially innovative and creative business strategies.
Actually it was in East Africa, just to back up for a moment so people can understand that this dates way back for me, when I was a kid, before sustainable fashion was ever a thing or those two words were ever even next to each other, that's what I wanted to do. I studied abroad my sophomore year in college and I went to Kito. And specifically in Kito, I was actually volunteering at a women's prison every week, which is crazy how that came back full circle in my life.
We are really trying to build a pipeline of employment within the fashion industry for women who are returning citizens. So either formerly incarcerated or even maybe experiencing incarceration within the home or other types of association with the criminal legal system, probation. So I'm really excited to partner with some very competent and mission-aligned institutions to develop that curriculum.
And make sure, which is something that I always wanted to do from the conception of LULAH is to make sure that any person identifying as a woman in our program is graduating with a degree, some form of certification from an academic institution, because I feel like, if we're talking about creating access and we're talking about fair hiring processes, education is one of those bigger barriers. And so to be able to knock that down out of the gate, I think is really huge for me.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
While both Tameka and Ibada are leaders in the fashion sustainability space, we find that this space is still mostly lifting up white women and their brands. Even within the sustainability space, there are different opinions about what is actually considered sustainable. We often conflate organic regenerative and sustainable without actually understanding the nuances, and brands especially benefit from this conflation. Fortunately, we have people like Tameka who is actually focused on real impact and real transformation of supply chains.
Tameka Peoples:
Sustainability, as Teju said, was really some of the monikers behind the creation. We realized that organic, it's sometimes just a word thrown around. But the way that we decided to produce our T-shirt line with cotton that was of course got certified as organic as well as in the production center that was carbon neutral all the way to even how we ship with carbon offset, that intent was because we were seeing the things in the fashion industry as being one of these majority polluters.
And we knew that we could think about fast fashion, which a T-shirt is considered fast fashion, but we can think about it in a different way. We can intentionally decide to create in this way. And when we do, here's the impact we could have on the planet. So I guess it was almost a no-brainer.
Cotton production also gets a bit of a sting with these things behind what's the real water usage, what's the real impact. When you're producing cotton organically, you're not using these harmful pesticides, so it's better for the farmers. But if we are going to go down this road of production, we really need to be thinking about how that is impacting the planet.
And then we also have a responsibility to support the education for the consumer of why this matters. Maybe we should think about how much consumption, right? Do we really need 10,000 shirts? I mean, no, maybe we just need one good one.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Latoya Ramos's work helps brands to think about sustainability more deeply, as well as analyze their own impact. While she mainly provides them with communication support, her ethos is rooted in a larger vision for our supply chains.
Latoya Ramos:
So Pluvrichor is a sustainability advisory and impact brand strategy studio. I do a lot of work that's rooted in regenerative economics and just generally creative ways to address the climate problem and ESG related factors, communications with a specific focus on behavioral change and brand strategy. So a lot of the work that I do, what I tell people is that if a sustainability consultant and a brand strategist had a baby, that's a lot of what I do.
So it's just deeply rooted in circularity and really helping brands rethink their sustainability plans, whether it's strategy, whether it's an LCA, whether it's research and really looking at their supply chain. Just thinking differently about it all, because a lot of the old ways of doing things, especially for apparel brands and product-based brands, it just hasn't been working.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
TheWe learn that 90% of cotton that's produced in Africa, predominantly West Africa is mostly exported to other countries to be refined. way things are being done are not working and have not been working for a while. Current mainstream supply chains are not rooted in communities; instead, they often disrupt them. National and global supply chains run on efficiency and cost effectiveness, leaving no room for place-based practices, which is how communities domestically and abroad get exploited. Even when brands claim to be doing positive work for local communities, we have to think critically about who it's positive for and if it actually reinforces inequities that exist.
Ibada Wadud:
Being in the US and doing this work and understanding how it affects communities that are very similar to the communities that I come from or policies that will definitely impact my life, my family's life, people I know, that's a huge deal. And I do feel like it's important to have those connections as equity designers.
I think that in some way it's hard to quantify, right? I think there's more of an awareness and a consensus that we shouldn't be parachuting into communities to propose solutions that we know nothing about, usually Black and Brown communities, Indigenous communities.
So now it's a question I think more so of, should we be doing any of that at all? Should y'all be in Rwanda? Whatever brand, whatever, it's not about is your program rigorous enough. Is it focusing on economic and environmental and this impact?
There are many, many, many examples of brands and multinational brands especially that are doing work in developing countries, emerging markets under the guise, and oftentimes with the genuine intention to facilitate sustainable solutions to real problems within communities. But I think that whenever that originates with the brand and not within the community, I feel like that's also the blueprint. It's not even being questioned.
Invisible artisan is definitely one of those blueprints that needs to die. It just needs to die in the fashion industry. I saw these Brown people in Belize and now we have a collection of ... It's like, okay, did anyone from that community specifically say, we would like to work with you and have you represent our culture and sell it in the US?
We just need to accept that we've made mistakes in this industry, like anyone. And we should, like corporations, to be clear, corporations should be held accountable and I believe they will. But then moving forward, here's what we're not going to do. I think that that's really important to establish.
If we could establish all of these best practices around circularity, we can establish frameworks to engage in issues that are social and cultural and deal with issues that are deeply rooted in history.
Latoya Ramos:
Most of my clients, I say, "What happens when you leave?" Because when we talk about supply chains, there's such an extractive culture around it. And it's just like, oh, this is where we source from. And sourcing is one thing and ethical sourcing is one thing as well, but how are you giving back to that community or that region that you sourced your materials from? How are you putting that back? How are you planting seeds back into that? How are you being, quote, "regenerative" in a way where you're fueling the areas or places or people that you've utilized to make your product?
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Mainstream supply chains are rooted in a violent global history that devalues the labor and contributions of Black people around the planet and especially Black women. This has not only led to supply chains based on exploitation, it has also created economic disparities and entrenched poverty in Black communities globally.
Tameka Peoples:
I just think that when we think about the wealth gap in the US, that wealth gap can be attributed to several things, but one of that is the economic backbones of our communities have been gutted. And so business and having a space in the manufacturing level or the tier one level of business is going to be really important for our communities to thrive in the future.
And so if we aren't making anything, service provision's awesome, but if we're not making anything, I think that there's a real chance that Black futures are at jeopardy. If we're not considered a part of that production value chain outside of giving value to other people's chain, we are easily relegated and easily cut out of the discussion and left out of opportunities to grow and thrive and strive as a community if that happens. And so the value of a production center in the Black community is so that our children can also have a legacy for a future.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Tameka, Ibada, and Latoya see sustainability as a holistic process that understands the intersections of community, culture, environment, and economic development. They are attempting to create and support others in making new standards for how our clothes, bags, and shoes are produced.
Ibada Wadud:
I think creating a new standard is tough. It's tough because it requires that you have to live up to a lot. You can't create a new standard and then not be able to enforce it. You can't create a new standard and then it only applies to these people. So I think the best possible way for us to create a new standard that includes things like regulation within the global industry, within every state, garment workers protection acts like the one passed in California, SB-62, hopefully the Fashion Act once it's revised and meets some of those more ambitious goals that we're all trying to set.
But I think that ultimately, I would be remiss not to say that it requires co-creation. And so it's like fashion needs to have a conversation about capitalism and it needs to be a real conversation. We have to reckon with this issue. I think working across definitely public-private partnerships and all of that stuff, but I think it's something more, more human than that. I think it's about letting the people speak, who want to speak, who have never had an opportunity to speak, just letting that happen and releasing that control and that power over people.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
We can't transform supply chains to make them more sustainable without actually doing the work and centering the people already doing the work. Brands and corporations are notorious for saying they're doing something or supporting something without any actual evidence or strategy to back it up. This is something Latoya has dealt with before.
Latoya Ramos:
I think the challenge is basically how society just is today. We've gotten so used to doing things a certain way over the past century, and we've gotten so far into it, to the point where we've really just ... Oh God, the planet itself and when we talk about natural resources and things like that, we've really done so much damage to it. And I think the biggest problem is just trying to make it make sense now. So trying to figure out, okay, what do we need to change?
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
There needs to be a paradigm shift in how we understand the fashion industry and how our products are made. We need to redefine how we think about quality, affordability and dignity for those who are making our products. There are opportunities to transform so much of the way we think about the fiber and fashion space.
Latoya Ramos:
Another thing that I talk about is just redefining what we consider luxury, because I think in order to address consumerism, we have to value things in a way that we would value something that we consider luxury and something that is of novelty. Because once we start to slow that down and really only purchasing and buy things that we truly, truly value, we see as something very valuable, that will lead us into better behaviors around purchasing things.
And when I say purchase things, I'm not talking about necessities and essentials, even though that's true as well, but when we just talk about the more general things in life, things like furniture or just pretty things that we like, or luxurious things. But how is it made? And typically luxury items are made very well in an ideal setting.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
And I know that part of the issue with degrowth is that it has to happen on a global level. If there are lots of small sustainable brands, but there's still Forever 21 and H&M, who are huge fast fashion brands, it doesn't necessarily matter if there's a hundred sustainable brands because there's still this fast fashion that is having these factories in India and Bangladesh and China.
So I think part of what makes it difficult also for degrowth is that the globe has to participate. It can't just be small businesses or else it doesn't work because most small businesses are not even operating at a scale anywhere close to a ZARA or an H&M.
Latoya Ramos:
Right. Traditional ways of doing business, it's just really not working anymore. So we need to think about what you can put back and replenish after you've extracted resources, human labor, or whatever it is.
I would say we need to think so much differently about it. We have to figure out how, especially for bigger brands who have already established these huge supply chains and they have all these workers and team members. And there's just been another resurgence of all these sort of tag words and buzzwords around it. I'm personally tired of saying the word sustainability, but it's just how we categorize things.
So for me, it's really just redefining, how can we realistically slow down with consumerism and value things and value individual things? Because I think that's a start of making true change within supply chains, but also helping brands and organizations see that people still will buy things, but if we just slow these things down, we put more value back into these items.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Slowing things down and consuming less is definitely necessary to be more sustainable. As Latoya reflected, it's about the way we value our things, knowing who made our stuff, how it was made and where it was made, helps consumers, which we all are, rethink our materialistic lifestyle.
I try as much as possible to buy things that I know how and where they are made. Most of my clothing has a story. And for the most valuable pieces, I know the specific person who made them. And this is how I know Baily Rose. Her work is focused on connecting slow fashion artisans, regionally to create more inclusive, sustainable garment production.
Baily Ann Rose:
My name is Baily Ann Rose. I am from Red Cliff, Colorado, raised on Ute land. And I'm also the founder of The Tailors Union, an app, which I am developing with a number of other people. And inspired by you, Teju, I've been working on my statement of positionality and I would like to state my positions in society.
I am a woman. I am currently low class, but I was raised upper middle class in bedroom communities to the richest resort towns in the world that led to higher depression rates than the national average because we compared ourselves to the richest of the rich. And it also led to higher privileges from being in such close proximity to these higher class privileges.
I am on my father's side, Siciliana, Calabrese, Moroccan, Helene. On my mama's side of the family, I am a waspy mix of Irish, English, German, Scottish, French, Swiss, and Prussian. Actively deconstructing whiteness while acknowledging my privilege as passing and my family assimilating into that whiteness.
I am heterosexual with alloromantic, allosexual, androsexual, autoromantic, autosexual, demiromantic, demisexual, heteroromantic and monosexual. And my culture that I was raised around was a mix of this Colorado Siciliana Americana matriarch, which instilled a strong sense of Italianess into our American identity. And I always felt pretty uncomfortable with the waspy side of my mother's family who were primarily ranchers and farmers raised in a tiny mountain town. But then there was that bumpkin, being close to the land Paisan mix, which related to one another.
And I was raised on Ute land with stories of lovers sleep, which is a Ute tale, with Navajo cousins. Growing up next to an abandoned mining town with the knowledge that industries fade, men die. And before they do, they leave scars all over mountains in search of riches when they were blind to the beautiful and bountiful beauty that surrounded them. And I am an American, born and bred in Colorado, I say, and able-bodied except when I faint and lose consciousness.
So Tailors Union is an app idea. To simplify it, I call it the Airbnb of slow fashion. Connecting slow fashion artisans, regionally. Well, connecting slow fashion artisans to citizens regionally by geolocation.
And I had come up with the idea when I was struggling as an upcycling designer and renting out my flat on Airbnb to make rent and it clicked. And I'm like, what if slow fashion artisans, upcyclers, small town designers had an app like this to connect to the public because sometimes these creative types aren't the greatest at marketing or selling their work? And a platform like Airbnb really helps to organize all of that and then directly connects people with the customer at that regional level.
So I'd had the idea, but I didn't have the resources to make it happen. And then I later had the opportunity to get my masters in sustainable fashion in Berlin, in Germany, where it was much cheaper and accessible for me to get my master's degree. And I decided to write my thesis on that app idea.
And we're still in the beginning phases of getting accepted into accelerators, looking for funding, that kind of thing. But basically I want the app to first and foremost, take care of garment workers and to get them paid well. And then with that, because you have to have the workforce in place being taken care of, they will be able to, and we will be able to help repair and regenerate clothing and upcycle it, basically keeping it out of landfill.
And then after I wrote my thesis, I found out about Fibershed on a more national level. And that is also the end goal to fully regionalize, well, help to regionalize the fashion supply chain. And so the app is a way to help support all of that.
Teju Adisa-Farrar:
Reshoring and regionalizing fashion and fiber supply chains is one of the many solutions to make fashion and material culture more sustainable. In our final episode, we'll hear more from Baily and Tameka about regional fiber initiatives.
Human history includes the development of violent supply chains as a result of the transatlantic slave trade and colonialism, but supply chains are not inherently violent. There does not have to be exploitation and extraction in the way our products are made. We can support folks like Tameka, Ibada, Latoya, Baily, and others who are imagining and making sustainable, ethical, and regenerative production chains. We can hold ourselves accountable as consumers and we can also hold corporations accountable. Just like we have community organizing, we need to have consumer organizing to put pressure on brands.
By supporting brands that are creating alternative supply chains, like Seed2Shirt and LULAH, we not only change our own behavior and clothing consumption, we also shift what is accepted as a standard. The standard should be to decolonize, decentralize, and regionalize supply chains. And trust me, this is already happening.
It's time for the wind down. I invite you to take a deep breath and stretch your body, release tension in your shoulders, jaw, neck, taking a moment to reflect on and process our conversations today, our conversations with women entrepreneurs who are reshaping our supply chains and thus reshaping our world, our reflections on making products differently and thinking critically about the industries we take for granted. Let's just take a few moments to reflect on the conversations we dove into today.
I invite you to take a deep breath and thank yourself for listening to something new today. I invite you to take a deep breath and reflect on the products that are made from so much violence. We have an opportunity to transform supply chains and support communities healing. Thank you to the hands that tend to our natural fibers. Thank you to the garment workers who stitch those fibers together. Thank you for caring about where your stuff comes from, how it's made and who makes it.
You can subscribe to Black Material Geographies anywhere you get your podcasts. Black Material Geographies is part of the Whetstone Radio Collective. This podcast is a team effort. Thank you to the Black Material Geographies team. My producer, Tiffani Rozier, audio editor, Rhae Royal, composer, Philip Kelechi Nnamdi Iroh, researcher, Haven Ogbaselase, and intern, Kai Stone.
I'd also like to thank Whetstone founder, Stephen Satterfield, Whetstone Radio Collective head of podcast, Celine Glasier, sound engineer, Max Kotelchuck, associate producer, Quentin Lebeau, production assistant, Amalissa Uytingco, and sound intern, Simon Lavender. Thank you to Whetstone art director, Alex Bowman for the cover art.
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