Second year in a row and here we are, back on the dreamy island of Leros. Clearly, we’re not ones to resist a good thing —especially when that good thing involves art, magical landscapes, and the kind of atmosphere that feels like an exhale.
“Folding the Sea Into Dresses That Dissolve Like Salt”
The reason for our return? Once again, Perasma’s Istanbul evocative exhibition “Folding the Sea Into Dresses That Dissolve Like Salt” at the historic Kandioglou Mansion.
Yes, the title is still as poetic and mysterious as last year. And yes, the magic is still very real. This third-year iteration brought together 27–28 international artists spanning Africa, Asia, Europe, and the USA.
Notable participants included revered names like Brian Eno (with new etchings and works such as “Turntable II” and “Sharp Soft III”) and Dora Maar (silver gelatin prints from the 1920s–’30s).
We were there for the opening, and what unfolded was six days of inspiration, connection, and quiet awe (plus a little chaos, as is the tradition).
This year, just like last year, we created a capsule collection especially for the exhibition, consisting of three garments. The collection is a work in progress that keeps building and taking shape year after year, following different guidelines and concepts each time but with one constant in mind: Leros.
Curious about last year?
Leros
From the 28th of June until the 30th we attended the Exclusive Opening Weekend of Perasma’s Istanbul “All Things Become Islands Before My Senses” in Leros. The exhibition is named after Cesare Pavese’s poem “Passion for Solitude”.
This rich artistic backdrop makes our own contribution all the more meaningful. Each piece was made with the exhibition’s ideas in mind: staying close without losing our shape, holding space, and moving together. Dressing not just the body, but the feeling.
PRESS LUNCH
The press lunch, just like last year, took place at “Mylos by the Sea”—and no, that’s not a coincidence. When something works this well, you don’t mess with it. The food? Exceptional. And the music… ooh, the music. That perfectly curated mix of alternative, indie, and a hint of new wave—so effortlessly cool, so rarely found in restaurants, yet here it is.
THE ISLAND
Leros itself remains a cultural treasure chest. Its architecture alone could be the subject of a multi-volume romance—ancient temples, Byzantine castles, minimalist Italian buildings from another era... It’s like walking through a beautifully curated history museum, except there’s the sea, the light, the food, and a whole lot more art.
This time, we managed to visit some additional places we didn’t make it to last year—because let’s be honest, trying to “see it all” in Leros is like trying to “fold the sea into a dress”.
There’s just too much, in the best possible way. And underneath all that beauty, there’s an energy to the island. Something warm and positive that stays with you. The kind that makes you pause and say: “Wait, is this real?”
Among the standout discoveries?
A hidden treasure tucked away in the hills of Xerokampos: the old soldiers’ barracks. We followed rocky paths, climbing higher and higher, the melodic clinking of goat bells setting the rhythm for our ascent. At the top, we came across a run-down, abandoned building—bars on the windows, silence all around. It felt a bit like the start of a mystery novel or a slow-burn horror film.
We weren't exactly sure what we were looking for… until we stepped inside.
BOOM! Frescoes. On the walls. Cartoon-like characters, painted with a surprising amount of joy and color considering the otherwise bleak surroundings. And somehow—despite the crumbling structure, the sun, the wind, and time itself—the paintings are in incredibly good condition.
But wait, there’s more: two reproductions of works by none other than Pieter Bruegel the Elder, the 16th-century Dutch master of peasant scenes and chaotic little human dramas. Just… there. In the hills of Leros. No signs. No fanfare. Just a casual Renaissance surprise.
BY THE SEA
After our little discovery-adventure, we made our way down the hill of Xirokampos for a swim beneath the chapel of “Panagia Kavouradena”.
The tiny church is wedged dramatically between two sea-battered rocks, as if it was placed there by the tide itself and just never left. But what really got me was the icon inside. The Holy Mary, surrounded by a crab. Yes, a crab. I’ve seen her in gold, in silver, with tears in her eyes, but never a crustacean. This was the first time I had seen an Orthodox icon where the Virgin Mary was associated with an animal—and not just any animal, but a sea creature.
We made our descent down the stone stairs and then, of course, over some rocks and found ourselves in front of two small secluded beaches. The kind of places that feel like they only reveal themselves to people with good intentions—or just really good timing.
Which brings me to another beach we visited—twice, actually—because one visit simply wasn’t enough: “Velanidia”. A dreamy little cove that looks like it got lost on its way to an exotic island and decided to stay in Leros instead.
Hot tip:
Visit Harris bar for sunset.
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But truly, what more could we ask for? To be surrounded by kind, talented, passionate people —all gathered under one (very bright) sun, celebrating art and co-existence.
To be part of an exhibition whose theme this year invites us to stay close without losing our shape. To move beside one another, in sync and out of step, letting silence speak, being many and not one —porous, attentive, open.
Would we have had the chance to experience this side of Leros otherwise? Probably not. And that’s the beauty of it.
Perasma gave us a way in —a deeper way of seeing, connecting, and feeling. Leros is a place where sea and memory fold into one another, and creativity lives in every corner.
Until next year (because let’s face it… we’re already plotting our return)!