Imagine being stripped of your freedom, confined to a prison cell for years, yet finding a way to keep your spirit alive. That’s exactly what Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe did during her six-year ordeal in an Iranian jail. But here’s where it gets truly inspiring: she turned to sewing as her lifeline, creating a small patchwork cushion that became a symbol of resilience and creativity. This humble cushion, pieced together from scraps and made on the prison’s lone sewing machine, wasn’t just a craft project—it was a testament to the power of the human mind to thrive even in the harshest conditions.
Upon her return to London, Zaghari-Ratcliffe didn’t just bring back the cushion; she brought back a story of survival and resistance. This story has now blossomed into a groundbreaking collaboration between London’s Imperial War Museum (IWM) and Liberty’s fabric department. Together, they’ve created three stunning fabric prints that capture the essence of her experience as a prisoner. And this is the part most people miss: these designs aren’t just about confinement—they’re about the unbreakable human spirit and the solidarity found in shared struggle.
At the project’s launch, Zaghari-Ratcliffe wore a dress she had made just a week prior, crafted from a fabric called Passage of Time. This green-hued pattern is a visual poem, weaving together nature, the repetition of life behind bars, and symbols like white doves, Tehran’s rooftops, and the moon’s phases—all things she glimpsed through the cracks of her cell. “They can take away the world you live in,” she reflects, “but they can’t take away what’s happening in your mind, your imagination, and your creativity. Holding on to that was how we survived.”
This collaboration, titled Creativity in Conflict and Confinement, isn’t just an art project—it’s a bold statement. Here’s the controversial part: it challenges us to see creativity not just as a hobby, but as a form of resistance. Is it possible that something as simple as sewing or crafting can be a powerful act of defiance? Zaghari-Ratcliffe believes so, and her story proves it. During her imprisonment, she sewed clothes for her young daughter using the prison’s only sewing machine, even sharing Liberty fabrics—sent to her over the years—with fellow inmates. Through a rehabilitation program, she also learned woodwork and knitting, proving that creativity can flourish even in the most restrictive environments.
The project draws inspiration from the IWM’s collection, which showcases how people throughout history have turned to craftwork to retain dignity and hope. For instance, a wooden figure made by a disabled ex-soldier in 1919 highlights how creativity can provide purpose and healing. Prof Sir Simon Wessely, an IWM associate, notes, “In the face of trauma and confinement, creativity helps restore agency, identity, and hope. It’s always been a way to process pain and reclaim resilience.”
The three fabrics—Passage of Time, Obscured Landscape, and Stitch and Community—each tell a unique story. Obscured Landscape layers geometric patterns from Liberty’s archive over sketches by British war artist Anthony Gross, while Stitch and Community overlays Liberty florals on private papers from army generals and prisoners, evoking the solidarity Zaghari-Ratcliffe felt with her fellow inmates. But here’s the question: Can these designs truly capture the depth of her experience, or do they risk romanticizing suffering? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
For Liberty, this project is also a nod to its own history of creativity under pressure, as its store remained open during World War II. The new designs are displayed as massive hanging banners across the museum’s entrance and atrium until February 2026, and are available as scarves, ties, and other accessories in-store and online. Additionally, 225 meters of the fabric will be donated to Fine Cell Work, a charity supporting prisoners through paid craftwork opportunities, helping them regain dignity and reintegrate into society.
“These fabrics cover so many elements related to incarceration—the passage of time, hope, resilience—but more than anything else, solidarity,” Zaghari-Ratcliffe reflects. “You’re collectively enduring this pain, and you get through it together.” Her story isn’t just about survival—it’s about thriving, even in the darkest of places. So, we ask you: What does creativity mean to you in the face of adversity? Share your thoughts below and let’s keep this conversation going.
