The Spectacle

Where do I begin?

The Spectacle was born from my reading of the prophets—Isaiah and Ezekiel—how God told them to walk or lie naked as a sign to the people. In Scripture, it symbolized shame, judgment, and exposure. But when I sat with those passages, I saw something deeper for myself.

I saw the artist.

The one who has to die to self over and over again just to create. The one who’s asked to be naked—not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, creatively. And there’s a resistance in that. A discomfort. I didn’t always want to be seen. I didn’t feel safe showing who I really was. But God doesn’t call us to comfort—He calls us to surrender.

This journey has forced me to show my scars. To get real about the parts of me I’d rather keep hidden. And while it doesn’t feel good, I’ve come to understand it’s necessary. It’s where my freedom is. Because when God is forming you, He’s not just after your gift—He wants your submission.

So The Spectacle is that space where fashion, art, poetry—all of it—becomes the language for what I’m still healing, still discovering, still becoming. It allows me to say what I’m scared to say out loud. Shame used to silence me. Fear of being misunderstood used to paralyze me. But now I’m learning to uproot those things from the source—to stop searching for answers out there when the truth has always been within.

This is what The Spectacle is.
It’s not just a collection.
It’s a process.
A revealing.
A confrontation with destiny.

It’s sackcloth turned to silk.
Ashes turned to eggshell white.
Darkness giving way to light.

It’s the embodiment of mourning turned into movement.
Of repentance turning into revelation.

And you—you’re witnessing it. Not a performance, but a becoming.

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Humiliation is the state of being brought low—emotionally, socially, or spiritually—often through shame, embarrassment, or the stripping away of pride, status, or ego. It can be inflicted by others or allowed by God as a means of correction, refinement, or preparation.

When used in reference to the process one undergoes under God, humiliation is not about disgrace for disgrace’s sake—it is a sacred stripping. It is the intentional breaking down of pride, false identity, and self-reliance so that what is eternal, pure, and aligned with God can be revealed, formed, and elevated.

This is the humiliation process under God’s hand: a necessary descent into dependence, obscurity, and sometimes misunderstanding, where character is forged in the fire of surrender. It is not punishment—it is preparation. It is the path of every person God intends to exalt.

As Scripture says in James 4:10:
“Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you.”

This isn’t just a call to an internal attitude; it is often an invitation into a season where God allows you to be emptied—of titles, of applause, of certainty—so that your foundation is no longer built on the shifting sands of man’s approval but on the rock of divine identity and purpose.

Let’s talk about humiliation—not the kind meant to shame you in front of people, but the kind that God allows to shape you in private.

Humiliation, in this context, is a divine process. It’s when God humbles you—not to destroy you, but to rebuild you with a different kind of strength. It doesn’t always look good, and it rarely feels good. It can mean being misunderstood, overlooked, silenced, or stripped of the things you once thought gave you value—your title, your platform, your plans. But it’s holy.

It’s the wilderness season.
The back-of-the-line season.
The “why is this happening to me?” season.

But here’s the truth: God doesn’t waste humiliation. It’s the refining fire. The reset. The preparation for something weightier.

We read “Humble yourself before the Lord, and He will exalt you in due time” (James 4:10) and think it’s just about attitude—but sometimes, it’s about being placed in positions that force you to confront pride, ego, or reliance on things other than God.

Humiliation, when it’s God-ordained, is actually mercy. It’s the process of being made whole from the inside out. He allows you to be emptied so that when He fills you, you’ll know it was Him, and not your own hand that did it.

I’ve learned that God exalts people after He humbles them deeply—not to punish, but to purify. You don’t graduate from it. You grow through it. The higher the call, the deeper the breaking.

So if you’re in a season where you feel hidden or stripped—don’t run from it. Ask God what He’s doing in it. Because that humiliation?
It might just be the preparation for elevation.

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To bring it all together—The Spectacle and the humiliation process are not separate. They are one and the same.

The word spectacle comes from the Latin spectaculum, meaning “a show, a public display, a sight to behold.” It’s rooted in spectare—to watch, to observe.

But what happens when the spectacle isn’t something we perform… but something we live?

What explains The Spectacle is the tension, the resistance, and the conflict of becoming. It’s the wrestle with being seen—fully. The internal war of stepping out of who you were and into who you truly are, while the world watches.

Imagine it:

A naked body on cobblestone—vulnerable, exposed—while the crowd observes not just what you wear, but who you are.
Mud still clinging to your heels. Demons clawing from behind. But you’re walking forward—toward light, toward truth, toward the image of God in you.
You’re not just walking into your purpose. You’re becoming it.

This is the journey of The Spectacle—the shedding of old skin, the discarding of every label, insecurity, and false identity stitched to your past.
Every garment that falls is not just fashion—it’s a story, a scar, a silent surrender.

This isn’t for show.
It’s for transformation.

I am becoming both the altar and the sacrifice.
Naked so that nothing is hidden.
Laid bare so that what is sacred can emerge.

And what emerges is art—raw, poetic, intentional.
It’s fashion that doesn’t dress you up, but instead reveals you.
It’s storytelling that doesn’t entertain, but convicts.

At our house, The Spectacle is the philosophy behind everything we create.

It’s not just garments. It’s a mirror.
It’s not just expression. It’s exposure.
It’s how we translate transformation into fashion, art, and poetry—one piece at a time.

You’re not just wearing our work.
You’re witnessing our process.
And maybe, just maybe—your own.