Francisco Galarte:Can you offer our readers a “style memory,” a short autobiographical anecdote that tells us about the importance of clothing or style to you and its relationship to your artistic practice?

L. J. Roberts: In 1996, when I was sixteen years old I was kidnapped and taken to a “therapeutic boarding school,” located on a mountaintop, forty-five minutes outside the city of Redding in northern California. It was a depository for wealthy families to turn their misfit and/or outsider teenagers into “good kids,” normal kids. An integral part of entering the school was being stripped of “your image.” Nose rings were taken off the faces of punks, goth kids were forced to forfeit their black apparel and eyeliner, slutty girls' thongs were confiscated, and so on. The staff of the school rifled through my suitcases: cargo pants, boys t-shirts, and cologne were separated from items deemed “in agreement.”...

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