Fashion often connotes social entitlement, a cultural authority.

Various images of catwalks and flicking the pages of unaffordable magazines such as Vogue, GQ, and Grazia that display a savvy assortment of characters with premium accessories.

Indeed, the feelings of alienation and hostility to these unnecessarily extravagant objects that display status are warranted. But fashion belongs to everyone.

It’s a social signifier for identity and a celebration of self expression. This is precisely what It’s Called Ffasiwn, an artistic exhibition hosted by the National Museum, is designed to represent: a Welsh cultural celebration.

Immediately, the observer is confronted with a dazzling carousel of photos showcasing outlandish characters in the quiet towns of the Welsh Valleys. Kids sprawling in post-industrial settings with chic style and photographed with intense creativity.

A portrait of six is posing in light green with an averted gaze, unusually placed in a dull gray setting. Another photo presents a group of five dressed in bright red and black in a barren landscape.

One photo, rather amusingly, is a group of three posing in a pub elegantly next to a contentful local resident. They are out of place, indeed, but that is what makes it fascinating.

It’s Called Ffaswin began as a twelveweek artistic project in Blaenau Gwen back in 2015.

French photographer Clementine Schneidermann was the first photographer-in-residence for a cultural and environmental regeneration programme called ‘Arts+Minds’ funded by the Arts Council Wales, offering workshops and classes in Welsh communities.

Schneiderman then met Charlotte James, a creative director and filmmaker from Merthyr Tydfil.

Their similar interests and engaging practices led them to run fashion and photography workshops with youth clubs, collaborating with kids from working-class backgrounds.

This came to define the project and their photographic studio, Bleak Fabulous.

Since then, Bleak Fabulous has continued to pursue Ffaswin, with major collaborations, like Alexander McQueen in 2020, significantly increasing the creative output and fostering the next generation of talent.

Ffaswin shifts from reality and performance.

It is framed as taking inventory from traditional documentary practices whilst simultaneously providing a visually provocative expression.

The style of these photos attempt to mediate the experience of understanding the value of imagery as a form of documentary, but crystallising the value of photographing identity and self-expression.

It’s incredibly rewarding to see because it is tirelessly rebellious, and artistically astute, embracing different beauties that Wales has to offer.

As we are guided through the exhibition, the photos are set on the backdrop of an post-industrial architecture of south Wales, contrasting with the bright clothing of its participants.

The power of photography offers a cultural reinvigoration of the region, which has been traditionally associated with its industrial and social heritage, fostering another way of seeing a space.

It is not surprising to see how the media has rendered the Valleys as bitter caricatures of social deprivation and unsympathetic reports of deindustrialisation, rarely exploring the families that live there.

A poem presented on the recording reads: “People describe it as rough because they think there are loads of druggies.” However, Ffaswin wants to dismantle that fact.

The coverage that Ffaswin juxtaposes a preconceived idea of the Valleys with an ambitious assortment of humour, fiction, and whimsy. The poem ends with the line: “I love my town, I know its mine well, it is now at this moment in time.”

It’s Called Ffaswin is an effective testimony to the ineffable promise, hope, and creativity of today’s celebrated youth, a collaborative project with young participants and the communities they live in.

“We are from Merthyr and we are iconic!” is perhaps the best summary of the project, rightfully so.