Denim is a curious material. Unlike a lot of garments, it does not ask to remain intact or to be preserved. If anything, its value comes from use. It asks to be worn again and again, recording movement and friction, softening as the body insists.

A little bit like culture.

Recently, Levi’s gathered eight Parisian DJs of African and Caribbean descent at the Haus of Strauss for a project that unfolded across a full day of shooting, conversation, and encounters, later translated by Wanderkid into a lookbook, interviews, photography and behind-the-scenes content. The project was in fact initiated by Wanderkid, who approached Levi’s with the idea and impulse behind the gathering.

At first glance, it might look like just another upteenth event where people with overlapping geographies of identity. Photograph them. Create conversation. Build a cultural moment. However, it had nothing to do with sameness and everything to do with multiplicity.

Eight DJs.

Eight trajectories.

Eight ways of relating to inheritance.

Daddy Chulo, Shiiva, Yawy, Anais B, Ginger Boy, Andy 4000, Pha Phane and Cheetah did not appear as variations of the same profile. Their practices moved through different geographies, aesthetics and intentions. Different practices. Different sensibilities. Different relationships to memory.

The lookbook acted as the first layer: a study in appearance and personal interpretation, denim being the constant, personal style the variable. The interviews, particularly those featuring Cheetah and Shiiva, introduced another register entirely, moving from image to language, how people narrate themselves. Then there was the in-between moments, the fragments that reveal how identity operates when it is not consciously being performed.

By midday, the proposition continued at the table. The menu, catered by the Caribbean chef Kêvine Hippolyte, had been conceived from conversations with each DJ beforehand, from starter to dessert, every course interpreting one participant’s references and sensibilities.

Identities of African and Caribbean descent are often approached through a logic of reduction, as if shared histories necessarily produced identical forms of expression, flattened into recognizable categories.

Belonging is not synonymous with resemblance and to inherit might also means to receive something unfinished and decide what to do with it. Some leave it visible, seemingly having direct conversations with memory. Some stretch it, apparently less interested in returning. Some remix it but carrying references openly. Some transform it until only traces remained.

The gathering suggested precisely that: identity as adaptation rather than repetition.

And that is where denim suddenly becomes an unexpectedly precise metaphor.

Denim begins structured then it adjusts. The material stays but the fit changes as the same fabric behaves differently depending on who inhabits it. It becomes yours through movement. Identity often works similarly. You inherit languages, sounds, absences, aesthetics, memories but none of these become meaningful before they are inhabited.

Instead of preserving cultural identity under glass, the DJs present that day were demonstrating that identity remains alive precisely because it moves. Because it stretches. Because it survives adaptation. They were inhabiting cultural belonging. Questioning it. Expanding it. Complicating it. Showing that sharing references does not erase singularity. Proving that belonging does not require becoming interchangeable.

Wanderkid’s presence throughout the day, capturing identity in use, felt particularly aligned with that idea.

At the end of the day, we left with the feeling of having witnessed eight different ways of wearing what had been inherited. Like denim. Never fixed. Always becoming.