Let’s face it: laundry has a way of piling up, both literally and metaphorically. One minute you’re on top of the sorting game, the next you’re fishing for a clean sock like it’s the last cookie in the jar. But while most of us are just trying to stay ahead of the hamper, artist Shawn Huckins is wringing something much deeper from the daily ritual.

Let’s face it: laundry has a way of piling up, both literally and metaphorically. One minute you’re on top of the sorting game, the next you’re fishing for a clean sock like it’s the last cookie in the jar. But while most of us are just trying to stay ahead of the hamper, artist Shawn Huckins is wringing something much deeper from the daily ritual.

In his latest series—aptly titled Dirty Laundry—Huckins doesn’t just hang out his proverbial delicates. He invites all of us to take a closer look at the fabrics we live in, the ones we swaddle, swish, and sometimes suffocate ourselves with. This vibrant collection will be hanging out at Duran Mashaal Gallery in Montréal this June (2022), and we’re not just talking about fresh linens.

“At its core, clothing conceals,” Huckins explains in his artist statement, “but it also comforts, protects, and hides.” Sound familiar? That oversized hoodie you never want to part with? A cloak of invisibility. That weirdly soft scarf you only wear when you need emotional backup? A statement and a shield.

And here’s where it gets juicy. Huckins isn’t just painting portraits—he’s painting secrets. The kind you don’t want broadcast in the group chat. Using traditional American portraiture as his framework, he layers richly textured fabrics over the faces of his subjects. Think Elizabethan regalia meets contemporary concealment. The results? Bold, sculptural compositions that feel both precarious and precise, like a laundry basket balanced one sock away from collapse.

And that’s kind of the point.

“Dirty laundry” isn’t just a cheeky title—it’s the thematic detergent running through the entire series. We all have things we hide. Habits, histories, identities that don’t quite match the outfit we wear in public. Huckins uses fabric—literal laundry—as a way to tease out these tensions. The question isn’t just what we wear, but why. Who are we beneath the wool, the cotton, the silk? And more importantly: what do we not want people to see?

In true Laundry Club spirit, we love an artist who gets the layers. Huckins reminds us that fabric tells a story, just like our favorite vintage tee or that one towel that’s survived three apartments and a breakup. He’s asking us to confront what it means to wrap ourselves up—whether in comfort, costume, or denial.

So next time you’re folding your socks (or avoiding them), take a moment to wonder: What are you concealing? What might tumble out if you aired it all? And who, if anyone, would dare judge you for the stains?

One thing’s for sure—Huckins proves that laundry isn’t just a chore. Sometimes, it’s a mirror.

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Final Spin

Shawn Huckins reminds us that laundry—like life—is never just about what’s clean or dirty. It’s about what we choose to show, what we tuck away, and how every wrinkle, fold, and stain tells a truth we’d rather disguise in cotton. His work doesn’t air our secrets—it invites us to recognize them, press them flat, and hang them in the light. Because sometimes the art isn’t in the washing. It’s in the revealing.

Support The Laundry Club Blog: Because if I’m out here analyzing the existential meaning of socks and secrets, you can toss a quarter in the metaphorical machine.