Hong Kong has a storied history of street life: looking back at old photographs of the city, the street was an extension of the home, a respite from the cramped, dimly lit tenement buildings and squatter camps that millions called home. As the city developed, this open air community gradually faded – but Hong Kong still retains traces of its al-fresco formative years.

Step outside on any sunny day and it won’t take long before you spot someone’s tighty whities fluttering in the breeze high above the street. While locals try their best to stay out of the sun, some citizens are willing to go to any lengths in chasing the light, taking to the streets once again to air their laundry – and any number of sundry goods – in public.

Whether through habit or necessity, this practice has a secondary effect: blurring the divide between private and public space. Though seen by some (namely security guards and their ilk) as a nuisance, it also imparts an unexpected sense of life, vitality and resourceful creativity to underutilised public spaces. While locals try their best to stay in the shade, these guerrilla installations are left to soak up the sun, helping to ward off the damp and mould that thrives in Hong Kong’s humid climate.

The Sun-Dried series is a record of my observations, a light-hearted celebration of this uniquely local phenomenon.