Sometimes you can see an indian walking the streets of Nørrebro, Copenhagen, wearing a wide-brimmed hat with a feather in the band and a four-year-old boy in his hand. The boy is my son. The indian is my father. A Bolivian dreamer visiting the Scandinavian civilization that he met for the first time back in the 1970s before leaving it again at the beginning of the new millennium to live among his llamas far from running water and electricity in the highlands of Bolivia.
When I was born, my father named me Warawara Wawa meaning Star Child. When I founded my company, I named it WAWA, meaning Child. As a tribute to my father’s childish naivety and his stylish aesthetics shaped by a lifelong mix of a depending worship of nature and a clean Scandinavian cut.
My autumn/winter collection 2016 is called Urban Indian.
It’s Nordic simplicity meeting the heritage of the Latin America’s rich detailed crafts. It’s concrete versus the inca gold. It’s the city lake versus Lake Titicaca. It’s the child’s eye for the detail. It’s the funny and beautiful moments of being yourself. It’s clean but it’s warm. It’s indian urbanism.
Photographer: Amanda Hestehave