FAMOUS (FIFA)

I want to be on the front cover of Vogue and create fashion pieces in collaboration with designers. At the most recent fashion week the photographers loved me because I could’ve been anyone under the mask. That element of anonymity and personal satisfaction in felling like a star created a great balance in my head i’d like to expand on.

But more than just entering the world of fashion, I want to humanise celebrities, influencers, and elite athletes — people often dehumanised simply because of their wealth or fame.

Despite their success, I believe many of them operate within a relatively ethical space — because, at the end of the day, they’re only rewarded if we choose to support them. Whether it’s buying a footballer’s shirt, a singer’s album, or a ticket to watch our favourite actor, there’s a voluntary exchange. We want what they offer.

But at the same time, as wealth inequality grows, we need to recognise the difference between what we choose to support and what we’re forced to pay for — things like housing, food, and healthcare. These essentials are increasingly controlled by those who profit through private ownership, leaving everyday people priced out of their basic needs.

Too often, we misdirect our frustration toward celebrities, when in reality, their success is often built on connection and mutual exchange. I want to build a bridge between them and the people — to make them feel more like one of us, and help us feel more like them, if that feeling is mutual.

When public figures speak about mental health or personal struggles — like Dele Alli’s powerful testimony — I want us to truly empathise, not dismiss it because of their fame. When someone like Liam Payne passes, it reminds us that pain doesn’t discriminate — no matter how much money or fame you have. It’s not a competition of struggle. Someone losing their life to emotional or physical battles doesn’t take away from the suffering of others — it shows how deeply we all need connection, understanding, and value.

We’re stronger when we stop ranking pain and start recognising it. When we see each other — fully — we’re all more valued, more human, and more capable of healing together. And I want those same public figures to understand that their influence can and should be used to help real people facing real-world tragedies — because sometimes, seeing a mental health post on Instagram feels empty when, just a swipe down, I see a child blown to pieces in a war zone. You have influence. Use it.

This is the exchange I hope to create: mutual recognition, shared humanity, and real progress. We just need to see ourselves in each other.

Schrödinger's Tree Of influence*

I view art and political progress as Schrödinger's tree: if it falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Great minds and ideas undoubtedly exist, but if they are not heard—if they aren't amplified by a voice of genuine interest—does it matter that they were spoken at all?

The whispers that matter are being drowned out by needless noise, and it’s time for that to change.

This project seeks to elevate these important voices and ideas, bringing them to the forefront of our society's collective consciousness.

Can we learn from the lessons that remain unheard, lessons already conveyed by those who have walked before us? Could we use them as a vessel of education to shift the perspective of the majority and unite us in the pursuit of a common goal during the single life we have together?

By wearing the same identity, whether we are educated or not, whether we follow or resist, we can strengthen a collective message of discovery. The balance of confidence in those we follow, and competence in those who are leading change, can bring about the transformation we desperately need.

This is a method not yet tested—but one I believe is essential.

In this art piece, we see great leaders, wonders of the world, and movements that could make a real difference. Yet, the person meant to see it is turned away, engrossed in a football match on their phone.

This piece was inspired by the growing apathy toward potential, progressive change, lost in the trivial distractions that consume us daily.

I am as guilty as anyone. I visited the Tate Modern and, finding it all strange, chose to watch an Arsenal vs. Brighton match instead. When I'm out with my family and Arsenal plays, I have the game on my phone. Even when I attended a discussion between Jeremy Corbyn and Tory Tsui recently, I realised that, while their words were powerful, the room was filled with people who had the luxury of time to engage. For those who are focused solely on survival—who are caught in the cycle of meeting immediate needs—progressive actions feel out of reach, and hope for change dwindles when the struggle to provide for tomorrow takes precedence.

We, from our positions of privilege, must use our voices to speak the words that need to be heard by those who don't have the time or the space to speak them themselves. We must channel change through the mouths of those already followed, to amplify the collective voice of the many.

Football is the world’s most popular sport, and the device I am writing this on is the most powerful tool ever created to advance human progress. If a holy book can withstand generations, what could a device that connects billions across the globe accomplish?

I am excited to platform change through those already in the public eye—whether they are meme creators, sports fans, celebrities, or influencers. I don’t care. Let’s repurpose the identities we already wear to amplify the change we need. Once that message spreads from those who are struggling to those who are followed and at ease, only then will I be content.