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 even more inspiring: she didn’t just survive—she thrived through creativity, turning scraps of fabric into a symbol of resilience. When she finally returned to London, she brought with her a small patchwork cushion, a humble yet powerful testament to the human spirit’s ability to create even in the darkest of places. This cushion, crafted with the only sewing machine available in the prison, wasn’t just a personal project—it was a communal effort, a shared act of defiance against despair.
This experience sparked a groundbreaking collaboration between London’s Imperial War Museum (IWM) and Liberty’s fabric department, resulting in three stunning prints that capture the essence of life in confinement. And this is the part most people miss: these designs aren’t just about aesthetics—they’re a profound exploration of how creativity becomes a form of resistance. 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 isn’t merely decorative; it’s a visual narrative of her experience, featuring white doves in flight, Tehran’s rooftops, and the moon’s phases—all glimpses of the outside world she caught through cracks in her cell.
‘They can take away the world you live in, but they can’t take away what’s happening in your mind, your imagination, and your creativity,’ she reflects. ‘Holding on to that was how we survived.’ This sentiment lies at the heart of Creativity in Conflict and Confinement, the IWM project that launched this week. It’s not just an exhibition; it’s a celebration of how craft has historically been a lifeline during war, conflict, and incarceration. But here’s the controversial part: does society truly value creativity as a form of survival, or do we dismiss it as mere hobbyism? Zaghari-Ratcliffe’s story challenges us to rethink this.
During her imprisonment, she sewed clothes for her young daughter using that single sewing machine, a task made possible by Liberty fabrics she had managed to acquire over the years. She even shared these materials with fellow inmates, fostering a sense of community through crafting. Through a prison rehabilitation program, she learned woodwork, knitting, and other skills, proving that creativity isn’t just about making things—it’s about reclaiming dignity and purpose. ‘As women, making things and creating things was very important to me,’ she said. ‘You might not have absolute freedom in your movement, but no one can control your imagination.’
The project draws inspiration from the IWM’s collections, which showcase how people throughout history have turned to craftwork to retain their humanity. For instance, a wooden figure made by a disabled ex-soldier in 1919 highlights how creativity can be a pathway to healing and reintegration. Prof Sir Simon Wessely, an IWM associate, notes, ‘In the face of trauma and confinement, creativity helps restore agency, identity, and hope. It has always been a way to process pain and reclaim resilience.’
Liberty’s designers worked closely with Zaghari-Ratcliffe to create three fabrics: Passage of Time, Obscured Landscape, and Stitch and Community. Each design reflects a different aspect of her confinement. 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 she felt with her fellow inmates. But here’s a thought-provoking question: can these designs truly capture the depth of her experience, or do they risk commodifying her suffering?
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, pillowcases, and more. 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 said. ‘You’re collectively enduring this pain and you got through it together.’ Her story isn’t just about survival—it’s about thriving, even in the most unimaginable circumstances. So, here’s the question for you: How do you think creativity can be harnessed as a tool for resilience in your own life? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s keep this conversation going.
