Rasail Drawer Hoodie

Behind every childhood home in Pakistan, there’s a drawer that refuses to stay shut; stuffed with cassette covers, PTV schedules, dog-eared storybooks, juice ads torn from Akhbar-e-Jahan, and floppy disks labeled “Project” in ballpoint. Layer after layer, it becomes a private museum of the 90s and early 2000s.

This hoodie drags that drawer into daylight.

Each patch is a rescued relic: Nazia Hassan mid-melody on a weathered banner, the wood-paneled TV that demanded a slap to work, the Urdu novel whose title you can still recite, the Pakola ad promising instant coolness, the Windows XP Paint canvas frozen mid-doodle. Printed raw, edges left frayed, hand-stitched in deliberate chaos. It’s a wearable scrapbook of the sounds, tastes, and screens that raised us; the messages we didn’t know we were keeping until they resurfaced on cotton.