Who can understand the myriad hues of black better than a person who's lived in darkness since he was 6 months old? To introduce its All-Black fabric collection, Raymond came out with a film which is an intriguing yet poetic ode to black fabric. We realise towards the end of the film that the ode is delivered by a blind poet - it is his interpretation of black.

It has slick fashion colliding with a narrative that’s just as intriguing as it is lyrical. The narrative has a consistent progression, building human attributes into the colour black and leading up to a striking touch of authenticity in the end - The film features Jugpreet Bajwa, an Indo-Canadian singer and writer who’s visually impaired since the age of six months.

The film features blind Indo-Canadian poet and singer Jugpreet Bajwa. He's been blind since the age of six months, and is a singer and writer who became popular in India through a TV talent show. His positivity and perspective on blindness is refreshing and lyrical.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZytQ94gavE&t=153s

Please do watch the casting video in the supporting materials.

Raymond All-Black Collection

Title: Black Poetry

Voice:

In black, I see things you don’t.

Flawless, like a night that roars with elegance.

Selfless, like a slate that wants to elevate every bit of your chalky musings.

Fluid, like the drape that takes your shape as you conquer every cityscape.

Hopeful, like the dawn that promises to spawn, a yarn that makes the past a (yawn).

Black is resilient.

Black is quiet as a hush,

That says your presence needn’t rush, to make itself felt.

Black is unapologetically creative,

Like a poet who doesn’t give a dime about the rhyme as long as there’s reason.

I see restlessness, I see calm, I see a lot of things.

And it all, begins with black.

SUPER: The Black Collection. From Raymond.

Visuals:

In a wide shot, we see a stage with a man speaking into a mic. The frame rotates into position. He’s dressed in a sharp black suit.

Cut to a front shot where we see him, shoulder down, as he stops. We don’t see his face.

He speaks with the measured pace of a slam poet.

With every aspect of black that he paints with words, we see men stepping out from behind him. Almost flicking out in perfect unison with the varying rhythm of his words.

The come out of him, almost as if his words are creating personas. Each persona dressed in immaculate shades and textures of black.

They strike dramatically choreographed poses and walk out of frame as even more personas emerge.

The camera indulges in these poses and romances the way different shades of black fit, fall and enhance every move.

At this point, the camera reveals his face for the first time. And we realise he’s a blind poet. Who can essay the dimensions of black better than a blind person?

Camera drifts away from him.