Niamh O’Donoghue on the transformative power of clothes
Aged thirteen, I spent approximately 182 days embedded in a plaster of Paris cast that engulfed my petite, misshapen torso. The bulky, thick cast encased my frame from underarm to pelvis, pinching my skin tightly where gypsum met flesh – most notably on the tender spot of skin on the outer side of my distorted rib cage and hip flexors.
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