- Major Samuel Henry Mokopōpaki of Pāua Rockyshores [blue]
- Jay William Te Ururangi-Pūriri of Ryvington Ln [green]
- Ruby-Molly Ngatai of the Bowery [red]
"These felt dolls by Te Maari ignite sensory pleasures. Tactile, indigenous, soft-rough, femme, mysterious and a teensy bit alien, these ladies are relatable!
They delight and make me feel seen: the me that loves waahine, the me that loves dressups and the autumnal colours and wild heady textures of Papatūānuku. These babes wear skirts or dresses with their korowai but have manly names. They are slippery despite their fluffy exteriors.
I love their clean-shaven heads and androgynous faces. Their wide, haughty taniwha eyes. Their biomorphic taamoko. Their refusal to settle neatly under one label. They’re Maaori, but Maaori and; waahine, but waahine and; manu but manu and. I love this for them, and for me.
I came out as bi on national television (Ice TV!) in ’93 or ’94. I played the lesbian love interest in a short film about a migrant teen’s secret life, as a gay teen myself. Everything was relatively out, relatively easy, for a time... Except I couldn’t stand still, couldn’t remain one thing, needed to keep moving, never get pinned down. My plurality got me in hot water. Going straight got me in hotter water - strange to say - and like the dolls I’ve gone a little mute and watchful with age. Ah the hard lessons.
But Te Maari's sassy dolls remind me of feeling so hot in my hair cropped short, my perennial docs and my men’s walk shorts – unless it was a swirly skirt day! They’re even London-born Maaori waa, like me. They see my shapeshifty takatāpui māmā self, and nudge me to stay fluid, keep soaring.
And every time I read the name Ruby-Molly Ngatai of The Bowery, I think of Leigh Bowery and want to clap and clap."
