Fitted and unlined glove from basking shark skin, with the mic-rose thorns inside. Should you put your hand in, you will discover that the thorns, all directed to slant inward, will lock your hand in place in the manner of, ten thousand fishhooks. Should you attempt to remove it, the thousands of thorns will bite into the skin. You can put the gloves on, but to remove them would mean to cut them off. Gloves for life, or for one wear - the ultimate and final commitment.

Lethal lethal, 

my right fist and its sequels

[BY THE TIDES BY THE WAVE SPROSE]

~

Cut with a Jcut 1200 Lazer Engraver. 

Sewn on a Pfaff 1445, and by Hand-held Needle. 

Due to the unique nature of this product, it has a lead time of six weeks to shipping from order.

Shark skin from the Icelandic basking shark is the highlight material invented for this collection. One day outside my studio I saw a flatbed truck driving past, and on that truck a pile of wet glistening somethings. My brain said it was fishing nets... but that sharp little voice at the back of my neck disagreed: "That there pile was once alive. Chase it. Chase it down." And into my car I got, and followed that truck till it stopped. And on it? Five, reeking colossal beasts, brown, wet and far beyond dead. "To where will these sharks go?" I asked. "West," said the driver, "to the plants where they become oil and meat." Procuring the recipient’s number, I dialled and requested slithers of its mic-rose thorn skin to be sent to the Tanner in the North, for whom the impossible is but a days work. Twelve days later, in a relatively anonymous white cardboard box we received from his skilled blades a new first — basking shark (or shark skin, or whatever name you want to give it), and by far not the last first, from his skilled blades, baths and alchemical knowhow. See it, smell it, but recoil from its iron maiden touch... for the skin of the shark is more dangerous than its bite.