A Room of Our Own Is a Room of Her Own

Words by Cebo Mtshemla

What does it mean to truly make a space your own?

After moving out of home, I spent a short stretch living with my sister before finding a place for myself that sat closer to my daily life and work. In the beginning, the room felt almost bare. I had a bed and a rail. It was a space to sleep, nothing more.

But slowly, a poster from a friend, introduced to me by another friend I had met one night at a bar. A coffee table from an ex-boyfriend. Ashtrays collected over time. More posters. Eventually, a couch bought in cash with my December bonus.

My boss, in the middle of her own move, passed on things she no longer needed: shoes I had wanted for years, a handwoven dress from Bali, half-finished garments still pinned together. These pieces slipped easily into the room, settling among my own belongings until the space no longer felt like something I had built alone.

When I look around now, I see the traces of everyone who shaped the room. Every object represents a relationship, a moment of generosity, a passing of hands. The space is mine, but it is also theirs.

This is the heart of the editorial: that we are mosaics of the people we know, and the spaces we inhabit are built through collecting, sharing, gifting, and being gifted to. Nothing arrives without lineage.

The styling carries the same spirit of exchange. Our team pulled from what we already had: a 2008 Levi’s tote bag handed down from my mum, pieces thrifted over years, and items gifted by friends and mentors. The wardrobe was assembled the way the room was assembled, through community.

The graphics support this idea, tracing and annotating each item so that nothing becomes anonymous. By doodling and drawing, the feeling of journaling and memory is introduced, crediting each object and each item contributed. The act of crediting becomes a form of honouring and cherishing and loving.

At its core, this editorial is a study of how we build our worlds from the worlds of others. It recognises the beauty of the collected, the passed on, the borrowed, and the found.

Art Direction by Cebo Mtshemla (@cigaretttesandtofu)

Photography by Langa Bulose (@madeupnames)

Styling by Liso Ceza (@lisoceza) assisted by Cebo Mtshemla (@cigaretttesandtofu)

Typography and Graphic Elements by Jordan Bareiss (@brdnstudio)

Muse Amber Maaske (@amber.maaske)

Words by Cebo Mtshemla (@cigaretttesandtofu)

Meet the Team:

Cebo Mtshemla is a producer and stylist who moonlights as a fashion person in other ways. A party lover and maker of things, she moves between styling, production, and now writing with an energy rooted in fun, silliness, and play. Recent projects include her short film These Things Happen (in a club bathroom at 2am), which she wrote and art directed.

Langelihle Bulose, currently based in Johannesburg, is a multifaceted photographer and creative whose work captures the city’s shifting creative energy and the people shaping it. His grungy, raw imagery finds beauty in imperfection and in quiet moments within chaos. Shaped by silences and histories, his portraits of peers and artists become acts of trust and truth. Through his lens, he reveals tenderness in grit and hope stitched through the present, frame by frame.

Liso Ceza is an aspiring designer, stylist, and creative producer based in Johannesburg. Their work is rooted in emotion, instinct, and imagination. With a background in womenswear design and brand consulting, they draw inspiration from friends, music, magick, and the transportive nature of film. A daydreamer at heart, they collect moments, moods, and stories that find their way into their creative practice.

Jordan Bareiss is a multidisciplinary artist guided by play, experimentation, and tech. A compulsive learner, he’s gathered portfolios of loosely connected credits across graphic design, audio-reactive visuals, photography, writing, acting, and more.

Amber Maaske, model and muse for the editorial, reflects:
A Room of Her Own felt like stepping inside a girl’s mind. Not the tidy, put-together version, but the real one — messy, chaotic, and playful. It’s the kind of space where thoughts are scattered, clothes end up on the floor, memories pile up, and nothing needs to make sense. A girl’s room is where she gets to exist freely, without being watched or corrected. It’s where she can be loud or quiet, serious or silly, grown or childlike. This shoot felt like celebrating that freedom — the joy of being alone in your own world, surrounded by the things that make you feel safe, strange, and completely yourself.

What We Think:

This editorial understands that intimacy is constructed, not staged. The strength of the work lies in its refusal to separate personal identity from collective influence. Styling, graphics, and narrative move in alignment, creating a project that feels lived-in, generous, and precise. It’s a considered study of how culture is carried hand to hand, not manufactured.