I am creating a garment that plays with our conception and perception of personal space. The garment will defend personal space when it is under threat of intrusion, questioning our notions of “ownership” over personal space. Like a cat raising its fur or a porcupine its quills, the garment will deploy an array of “spikes” to ward off invaders. The “spikes” both increase the physical space that is under the wearer’s occupation, but also serve as a visual deterrent to encroachment. The system will work by sensing the proximity of objects surrounding the garment, and will trigger a response when an object or body comes too close. The system will be based on a microprocessor, several sensors, and a mechanical system to deploy the array of spikes.

I became acutely aware of personal space when one day while waiting to use an ATM in Paris, a Parisian sauntered right up and stood almost on top of the person using the machine, completely unaware that I was next in line. I realized that my American notion of what constitutes the expected space (a good yard and a half) between someone using an ATM and someone waiting to use the ATM, was tremendously different from a French person’s. To the Parisian, my yard and a half may well have been a kilometer, as I was so far from the ATM that I couldn’t possibly be waiting to use it!

Personal space—the physical space surrounding an individual that is required by the individual in order to maintain a sense of control and security—is unique to each culture and to the individual. Personal space is also in a constant state of fluctuation, depending on the social context in which an individual finds him- or herself.

The physical space which separates two strangers engaged in an exchange is vastly greater than the distance which separates intimate friends sharing a secret. This point was famously illustrated in a Seinfeld episode in which a character was known as a “close talker.” This character’s obliviousness to other people’s personal spaces caused him to repeatedly trespass people’s comfort zones, causing them to recoil and in some cases, practically backbend to avoid his intrusion. Obviously, this was played for maximum comic effect, but it was a great example of how our society has very clearly defined personal spaces.

We all experience these sorts of invasions on a daily basis—when we squeeze onto a crowded subway, or when waiting in line for a coffee. If someone is a little too close, we begin to feel threatened and uneasy. Equally, if we’re simply having a discussion with a colleague or classmate and they begin to back away—in effect, widening the personal space—we feel undermined and self-conscious. Is it the ten cups of coffee on our breath? Are we boring? Are they shoulder surfing? Could it be we’re not as fascinating as we think we are? Or do they just not like us?

General public

Someone puts on the Personal Space Suit, and goes out in public. Inevitably, the suit-wearer's personal space will be jeopardized, causing the suit to deploy its "quills." For the stranger tripping the system, the "quills" will come as a surprise, illustrating their intrusion. Ideally this interaction will raise the intruder's awareness of how we all invade each other's space and will also prompt them to consider the boundaries of personal space.

The Personal Space Suit uses a standard businessman's raincoat, and is hacked to include sensors, a microprocessor, and a mechanical system of "quills." The sensing system is made up of 4 infrared send-and-receive units. These sensors measure the proximity of surrounding objects, and send those findings to the microprocessor. The microprocessor is programmed to read the incoming sensor data and determine when it needs to raise its defenses. It achieves this by sending a signal to the mechanical system. The mechanical system is made up of the "quills", linkage and servo motors. The "quills" are a soft plastic material and protrude through the garment.