Outside the classroom, identity expands – formed through play, parents, and the world beyond the school gate.

Anchored in a place: Avenue d’Ivry in Paris, where Creative Director Lyna Ty grew up. Held in memory, the same figures returning each afternoon. Children move through the space, understood through those around them.

The one who sets the game without asking.
Already marked by the day: shirts untucked, knees dusted, sleeves pushed unevenly.
The one who follows – just behind, waiting to enter. Leaving early. Never fully joining.

The Scout moves through as a constant – defined by accumulation. A corduroy jacket with objects attached through use, not decoration. Badges, pins, patches.

At the perimeter, parents and their lives.
Arriving early, standing still.
Late, calling from a distance.
Not looking up, still at work.
Lingering longer than needed.
Discussing everyone’s gossip.

Other figures – the newspaper boy, the postman – intersect briefly.

Structured jackets remain buttoned – workwear, suiting, military carried into the everyday. Other garments soften – creased, thrown on in haste.

Bags held close. Hands occupied.
Blazers carried, not worn.
Shirts misaligned, buttons skipped.
Knitwear stretched. Ties loose.
Trousers low, hems dragging.
Creases remain. Scuffs and stains visible.

Colour drawn from the surroundings: beige and flat greys of concrete, sunlight diffused through green trees, faded reds and blues from the school’s modernist cladding.

The Avenue d’Ivry playground appears within the campaign – printed, scaled, slightly misaligned. Set structure exposed, wheels and supports visible. Figures move through it.

The playground exists in two states – held in memory and reconstructed.

Not nostalgia.