Kilometer 66

Atocha

88.00
sold out
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SP MAD La Neomudejar gallery -9.jpg

Atocha

88.00
sold out

This scarf is stunning!  Who knew graffiti spray cans could be so beguiling.  

Go ahead, put this on and keep 'em guessing.  A bit of mystery never hurt a girl.

Our scarves measure 48" x 48" and are made from a carefully chosen blend of 30% silk and 70% modal, making them ethereal, wispy, and softer than these pictures can portray.

Keep on scrolling for lots of styling inspiration and the story behind the photo.

More Info

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This scarf is stunning!  Who knew graffiti spray cans could be so beguiling.  

Go ahead, put this on and keep 'em guessing.  A bit of mystery never hurt a girl.

Our scarves measure 48" x 48" and are made from a carefully chosen blend of 30% silk and 70% modal, making them ethereal, wispy, and softer than these pictures can portray.

Keep on scrolling for lots of styling inspiration and the story behind the photo.

 
So one day we were picking up our rental car in a parking lot adjoining Madrid’s sprawling Atocha train station. While I sorted out the paperwork, my friend Dave made a discovery.

A splash of color on the side of an abandoned warehouse caught his eye. In the spirit of our adventure in Spain, he strolled over to check it out. (Because that’s what you do, right?) After being gone just a bit too long, he returned with a note of urgency. “Mmmm. Doug. I think you’re gonna wanna see this.”

We had stumbled onto La Neomudejar, an edgy “avant-garde art center” dedicated to exploring “other ways of relating with art.” Housed in a previously abandoned industrial space, the complex draws you in through a warren of seemingly ad-hoc displays and powerful street art.

Inside is another world: surreal, stark, stimulating, sometimes startling. Despite the carefully-coiffed casual air, this is serious stuff, born of passion - verging on desperation - to think, act, create, speak outside the box. This is space created for a generation to scream. Quietly, artistically … but insistently.

After staying too long, we tore ourselves away, returned to the asphalt jungle, and apologized to our somewhat befuddled wives.
— Photographer's Notes