Design isn’t just about form or function, it’s a vessel for story, memory, and resistance.
Nila Rezei
In 2022, a 22-year-old Kurdish-Iranian woman, Mahsa Amini, died after being detained for an improper headscarf violation in Iran. Her death ignited the Women, Life, Freedom movement, galvanizing Iranian women worldwide to stand against oppressive laws. Inspired by the movement’s mission, designer Nila Rezaei of RK Collective conceived of a project to reclaim headscarves and stadium seats, which have been symbols of the oppression Iranian women have and continue to face.
In Crafted Liberation, over 516 Iranian women from around the world anonymously donated their unwanted headscarves, which have been transformed into stadium seats through a combination of lamination and compression moulding techniques. These blended materials are then transformed into sheets and moulded into stadium seats, with the headscarf giving each seat a unique appearance, and thus creating a physical representation of Iranian women’s stories. The project continues to grow, with new headscarves donated weekly.
via Debbie Gallulo
Rezaei elaborates on her perspectives as an Iranian-Australian designer and the Crafted Liberation project below. (Interview lightly edited for length and clarity.)
How does your heritage and cultural makeup as an Iranian-Australian designer impact your perspective and work?
Being Iranian-Australian means I live in between, so we turned that exclusion into a place of inclusion—between geographies, between freedoms, between grief and hope. That liminality shapes how I see the world and how I design within it. For me, design isn’t just about form or function, it’s a vessel for story, memory, and resistance.
This wasn’t something I thought about as a young designer. Back then, I was more focused on aesthetics, systems, and solving problems. But with time, something shifted. There’s a growing longing for home. A need to connect, to give voice, to bridge these two worlds I belong to. I’m constantly seeking that thread that ties me back to my community, even from afar. Crafted Liberation emerged from that search. It’s deeply personal, but also collective. It asks: how can we design not just for, but with others? How can design become a place of belonging?
via Debbie Gallulo
via Debbie Gallulo
Where did your idea for Crafted Liberation originate? How did the concept of transforming headscarves into stadium seats to take a stand develop?
It started with hopelessness and grief. After Mahsa Amini’s death, I, like many others in the diaspora, felt a deep disconnect, a kind of paralysis and fatigue. We weren’t in the streets with them, but we couldn’t look away. That grief could’ve stayed internal. But instead, it became a platform for celebration and empowerment.
In Iran, women have been banned from stadiums for over four decades. So we turned that exclusion into a place of inclusion.
We put out a call, asking women around the world to send us their unwanted headscarves. Each scarf carried history, resistance, and care. We worked closely with manufacturing partners to turn those materials into something lasting. The seat came from symbolism; in Iran, women have been banned from stadiums for over four decades. So we turned that exclusion into a place of inclusion. A place to sit. To witness. To be heard.
Basically, we are co-creating the space we are excluded from, the stadium. And one day, when liberation is gained, we will install the seats we crafted with our own hands!
via Alexander Smith
via Alexander Smith
via Alexander Smith
I know the project is partly inspired by the Women, Life, Freedom movement. Can you elaborate a bit more on that movement, its importance, and how Crafted Liberation relates?
It’s not partly inspired, Crafted Liberation is completely inspired by Women, Life, Freedom. That movement is a loud, unignorable call built on decades of silencing. Since the 1979 revolution, Iranian women have resisted, through their words, their choices, their presence. Back then, overnight, the headscarf became mandatory. I remember hearing stories from my mother and her generation about how they would protest against those laws. That resistance never stopped. It’s just evolved into poetry, film, silence, shouting, and now, into these chairs. We are aiming to enable many women to participate in the resistance without showing their identity, but by donating the headscarf they have rejected.
It’s a way to connect women globally— to remind us that even across oceans, we’re in this together.
To me, Iranian women are the symbol of freedom. Their resistance continues every day. And wherever we are in the world, we’re part of it. Crafted Liberation is one way to honour that. It’s a way to connect women globally— to remind us that even across oceans, we’re in this together.
via Debbie Gallulo
via Debbie Gallulo
via Alexander Smith
To me, that’s what design is about: not just solving problems, but restoring relationships.
What aspect of Crafted Liberation are you proudest of?
It’s simple. It’s beautiful. It’s joyful. It’s celebratory.
The chairs are simple, aesthetic, and powerful. They fight back, but they do it with grace. And the most beautiful thing is: women are proud to call this their project. Not RK Collective’s. I’m just the facilitator. Everyone who participates makes their own seat, metaphorically and materially. That sense of ownership and collective pride is what I’m proudest of. To me, that’s what design is about: not just solving problems, but restoring relationships. In this case, between women and the spaces they’ve been excluded from. In other projects, between humans and the natural world. When design can create mutual empowerment—when it invites people back into their own story—that’s when it matters most.
via Debbie Gallulo
The post Iranian Women Reclaim Power by Turning Headscarves into Stadium Seats appeared first on PRINT Magazine.