Tag Archives: Dress Stories

The Front Row – Transformations

By far the biggest “transformation” of a dress during the “The Front Row” was of a gold stitched chiffon piece.  This design was based on another created last year for the Fair Fashion Parade.  It was the favourite of the model who assisted me with fittings, and of the audience at the parade, so I included it in the Evergreen exhibition at Object the following month.  (By popular, I have no tangible basis for this, other than it seemed to extract the most “oohs and aahs” and “that’s stunning” style comments from those who saw it.  As I like to create garments that have a popular appeal as well as appeal to my own tastes an inclinations, and as I don’t have a concrete measure such as sales figures go by, I often rely on the “ooh, aah” endorsement to determine future design directions…)

With the original dress in Sydney at the Object exhibition, I set about creating a similar one for The Front Row.  The fabric was dyed in Eucalyptus leaves, with some pieces left in they dyebath an hour or so longer so as to create two different shades.  The dress wasn’t finished in time for the beginning of the exhibition and instead this hank of coffee coloured chiffon hung in the gallery over the first week, “I’m meaning to make that up” I told everyone who wondered at what it was.

Lisa of Couturing saw the potential and agreed to wear the dress based on a photograph of the original, and so I set about getting it done.  The pieces are joined with a gold running stitch, each piece is left much as is, the edges folded back so as to fall in small frills.  A gold running stitch along the folded edges is both functional and decorative.

Image courtesy Couturing

Lisa wore the dress to LMFF Runway 2 with black “bunny ears” by Richard Nylon and a vintage Chanel handbag – I felt in very good company.

Image courtesy Couturing, Dress with Richard Nylon

Image courtesy Couturing, Dress with Gwendolynne Burkin

Image courtesy Couturing, Dress with Toni Maticevski

The dress also found itself in good company prior to the parade, here it is photographed with Richard himself, with designer Gwendolynne Burkin and with Toni Maticevski – legitimation by association.

I had put one day in the middle of the exhibition aside for serious transformation of the collection, and made up an indigo vat following on from a  recent workshop (more about this another time).  The chiffon dress was destined next for Leeyong of Style Wilderness and the City Weekly, who had also elected to wear it before seeing it made.  (She had, mind you, styled the original dress in the Fair@Square parade of which she was the organiser, so was familiar with it).  We agreed, that for her, the dress would be dyed in indigo.  What was particularly lovely though was that Leeyong was keen to try out the indigo process on some of her own clothes, and so came along to Indigo day.  We were able to decide together the twist-dyed effect we would attempt.  Leeyong had had plans of wearing the dress that very same day, but the process was much slower than anticipated, and the drying even more so, and in a cruel twist of fate, the gold thread actually broke down in the dye vat and many panels had to be re-sewn!  Clearly indigo is not the “natural” process I had originally imagined it to be.

Image courtesy Style Wilderness

And so, here is Leeyong at the LMFF Red Carpet Runway Presents Toni Maticevski show.  Note the ominous looking sky.

Leeyong and Phoebe, image courtesy Style Wilderness

And here is Leeyong with Phoebe, aka Lady Melbourne, recognise her dress?  You can read Leeyong’s own story, What a Difference a Dye Makes, about the dress on her blog – cute title!  Cruelly, Melbourne chose this night to unleash some absolutely vile weather, and so not only are photos of the guests at this particular parade scarce, this dress, along with two others of mine worn that night, were returned in a sorry crumpled state, which I actually didn’t mind one bit, because this altered state beyond my control hinted at excellent possibilities for the next transformation…

The Front Row – The post in which I attempt an outfit post

The Front Row has acquainted me with the world of style blogging, with many of my participants in the project being style bloggers themselves.  A key element of style blogs is the outfit post, where the blogger presents a photographic essay of an outfit.  I attempted to create my own outfit post, a task which emphasized for me both the sense of purpose and the photographic and sartorial accomplishment required to prepare and present an outfit post.

A white organza dress with silver slip was chosen from The Front Row collection to wear to The Spirit of the Black Dress Gala during LMFF.  While the event itself was lovely, the outfit post was a disaster from the beginning.  Arriving home from work when I should have been leaving the house gave me scant time to devote to a hair, make-up and outfit styling regime worthy of a high standard outfit post.  My problems were compounded by having moved house only two weeks prior and not being in possession of the requisite full length mirror in which to develop my outfit.  A cracked 10cm square make up mirror was hardly adequate for evaluating the balance of my proposed combination of shoes, dress and hair.  I resorted to snapshots outside the house to check on hair and make-up.

Hair down?  Oops, note mascara above eyelid.

Half up, half down?  A bit eighties, I don’t know you can pull it off if you were there the first time.

Up and to the side?  Better. Interesting.

Hissing a frantic “I’m almost there” into my phone, I threw on my favourite black tailored jacket from All Saints in London and sped to the tram, checking my outfit in the car windows along the way.  The dress was lovely to wear, the silk slip against my skin made me wonder why I waste so much time in polyester and nylon tops and the organza overlay fluttered around my legs.

Of course I forgot the most important element of an outfit post which is a styled and posed picture of my outfit.  This was taken when I remembered; back home late at night and my interesting up-and-to-the-side hair already taken down.  I also forgot to get any photographs of myself with significant people at the event, of which there were plenty, because I totally let my guard down and became otherwise preoccupied with generally enjoying myself and having interesting conversations with the various designers whose work was featured at the parade.  Each dress in this event must employ strategies of design for sustainability, and thus it was wonderful to discuss the various techniques employed by each person as well as to chat with such kindred spirits about our hopes for our design practices as well as our industry.  I was however photographed with my boyfriend and featured on facebook the next day.  Nine people liked the picture.

This photo by Kellie Dene

Thrillingly, my dress lasted all the way through a raucous maxi cab ride across town to the Chinese restaurant at the end of the night before I noticed the hand stitched organza layer had largely fallen apart and I was trailing organza remnants through Chinatown (a slight exaggeration) The dress was in need of significant repair by the end of the night but I was delighted that this had been the case, as it was my intention that each dress be only as durable as the event for which it was intended.  The organza was promptly detached from its lining and hung proudly in all its distressed and deconstructed beauty for the remainder of the exhibition.

There is a growing body of academic and journalistic literature on this recent practice, and among it I enjoyed an article by Rosie Findlay, whose PhD is on style blogs and who blogs herself.  Rosie’s article “At one remove from reality: Style bloggers and outfit posts” contends that style blogging “presents a mode of presenting one’s self that both embodies fashion’s imagery whilst depicting an individual expression of style as felt by the blogger as they literally dress themselves into sight.”

The style blogger mimics the established fashion media, using the conventions of fashion photography, be it the look book or the editorial genre to “literally dress yourself into view”.  Rosie points out that the style blogging genre has evolved in terms presentation to the point that the purpose of the outfit, details of where it is to be worn or the reasoning behind the photoshoot location are ambiguous or unexplained, however this was not my experience during “The Front Row”.  The bloggers who wore my dresses used their outfit as a conduit to report on the event for which the outfit was procured.  Their posts constituted both journalistic reportage of the event, whist maintaining the conventions of the outfit post.  The event consisted of wearing a particular outfit to it and the outfit post is therefore a valid and personalized means of describing what happened at the event.

Frocktober

I’m currently working on a wedding dress for Jacquie for her marriage to Max. Below is Jacquie with her friend Lou, they’re sewing together the toile for her dress prior to our first fitting.  First question, what does this have to do with Frocktober?  Jacquie and a team from the Melbourne Zoo are taking part in this fundraising event for the Ovarian Cancer Research Foundation.  Participants pledge to wear a dress every day during October (and the wedding dress we are working on will be one of them). You can sponsor their efforts here: www.everydayhero.com.au/frock_the_zoo

Secondly, why are Jacquie and Lou sewing the dress that I am supposedly making?  I’m trialling a participative made-to-measure concept, where recipients of my special occasion designs are involved in the sewing and construction of their own gown.  Our fittings have involved: food (on different occasions, baklava, sushi, spinach tart and roasted vegies), cups of tea or glasses of wine, shoe admiration (again from Melissa, a theme is developing on this blog I feel!), dress fitting and pinning, and finally some hand sewing.  Last night’s fitting also involved Jacquie’s mum who accomplished about twice as much as the rest of us.  What do you think?  Have you been involved in the creation  of an important dress for your own red carpet moment?  What did it mean to you?  Oh, and here’s that link again to sponsor Jacquie!

Tessuti Awards

There are a couple of days left to vote in the Tessuti Awards, run by Australian fabric store Tessuti.  My entry is in a sorry state; I opted to hand stitch it entirely from a length of linen and a length of lace (as per the brief) that I’d had lying around forever and then life got in the way…  I do still hope to be wearing it by Summer.

I have however been loving looking at and reading the entries.  This competition attracts sewers of all sorts, from professional designers, to aspiring students to domestic sewers, and to me challenges boundaries between professional and domestic, and about what activities constitute design.  While the competition is a sewing or making one, what is being judged is essentially design.  But best of all is the narratives generated around sewing, with each entrant asked to reflect on how they came to sew, what it means to them to sew and  the thought process behind how they worked their way through their design.

Typical among the stories is a “moment” that counts as an induction into sewing.  Says entrant Emily Pierce:

My Mum used to sew for us when I was little, and I remember sitting with her one day and cutting out a little tshirt shape and cellotaping it together and saying ‘this isnt hard!’ so from then on its history…I have excelled from that somewhat now however!

And I also love the stories about sewing that locate it firmly in contemporary life as opposed to a nostalgic pursuit practiced by our mothers, as expressed by Andy Truong:

I am a self taught sewer and I have been sewing ever since I can remember. I first started sewing when I did hand sewing projects. In year seven, I knitted phone and Ipod pockets and sold them to friends. With the money I made from selling them, I saved up for a sewing machine.

Made to Measure

“Crafting” the dress, the design sketch in the background

“Made to measure”, as practiced throughout Melbourne by various fashion businesses clustered around different geographic locales exemplify some of the attributes of  “emotional durability” and “slow fashion”; ideas central to design for sustainability.  The design of Zoe’s dress, employing the made to measure model, evolved like a story with designer, wearer and intermediaries contributing to a customised and appropriately executed narrative.

Made to measure is practiced in Melbourne most prolifically by the bridal couturiers of High Street, Armadale south of the river and Sydney Road, Brunswick to the north. Over time, the value we place in these types of services has dropped.  This might be due to our waning domestic dressmaking skills, making us less appreciative of the workmanship involved, or the proliferation of ever-cheaper ready to wear.  An article from The Age blames polyester dresses from China.  I don’t buy into the “blame China” argument; firstly because very high quality, expensive garments are also made in China alongside cheap poor quality ones, and secondly because it implies that we are powerless idiots who will buy whatever is put in front of us.  I like to believe we are more intelligent than that.  Humour me.  Suffice to say, for a combination of reasons, the made to measure fashion system invokes polarised viewpoints.  On the one hand, the dresses are unjustifiably expensive and on the other they are the stuff of dreams for a day when only the best will do.

Made to measure is also practiced by a range of other designers.  Toni Maticevski has spent the five years since last showing at RAFW “on his diffusion line for Myer … as well as private commissions” while in Fitzroy, a diverse range of designers such as Gwendolynne, Preston Zly and Richard Nylon create fashion and accessories that is made to measure, customised or collaborative in nature.

First fitting. Measurements are take, exact colours are discussed, proportions and amendments to the design are discussed.

Emotional durability is the idea that a garment will last because of its emotional connection with the wearer, rather than because of its physical durability.  Arguably, a special occasion dress doesn’t need much of either emotional or physical durability as it’s only to be worn once, but if we use this dress as a metaphor for fashion practice in general it’s interesting to consider the ways in which made to measure encapsulates the ideals of emotional durability.  In the case of Zoe’s dress, the aspect of the design and making process that could foster emotional durability was the engagement of all parties in a co design process of a dress for one specific person and event.

In recent conversations with designers and stylists in regards to fashion for red carpet events, a sentiment that has come up a few times is that someone was “disappointed” with the outcome of what they wore the previous year.  However, a well executed made to measure design process functions like a well told story with  designer, wearer and other intermediaries engaged in the process sharing in the evolution of the narrative.  Disappointment at the ending is difficult to imagine as each person has witnessed or contributed to the story along the way.

Second fitting. A toile is fitted, dyed fabric are viewed and the placement of the geometric shapes discussed.

This notion of “narrative” is one “experiential framework” suggested by Jonathan Chapman as an approach to design for (emotional) durability.  “Users share a unique personal history with the product; this often relates to when, how, and from whom the object was acquired.”¹  Furthermore Hazel Clark lists “transparent production systems and less intermediation between producers and consumers” as one characteristic of fashion that might be considered under the banner of “slow fashion”, an idea currently very popular in sustainable fashion circles. “More transparent production systems and less intermediation also provide greater opportunities for collaborations between designer, producer, and user, which, in turn, can bring new definitions to those roles.”²  The made to measure fashion system, while admittedly prohibitively high priced for an entire wardrobe, nonetheless achieves on a theoretical level these objectives of design for sustainability.

What do I like about the made to measure design process?  On a creative level, I like the negotiation of the design throughout the process, the way a design is open to change right up until it is worn.  From a communication perspective, the skills required in the design process are very different to ready to wear designing.  Explanation, empathy, consideration, listening, all these have to be finely tuned to put the client at ease.  I like the way relationships with people are mediated through the dress.  Other people might forge new relationships through their kids, jobs, food.  For me, I like being able to do it through a dress.  And from the production perspective, I like the way the dress is “crafted”.  I draw on my accumulated experience of the properties of each fabrics to know how to piece the sections together.  In the case of Zoe’s dress, the design differed quite a bit to the unstructured dresses I have been making, so it was a combination of remembering old skills, research and experimentation.

Third fitting. The dress is partially made up, and tried on with shoes and jewellery.  It’s missing a zip at the back and the beaded pieces are mostly pinned in place onto a tear-away vilene backing. The hem is marked with pins and a finished measurement for the belt is taken.

For Zoe’s dress, the process involved a series of sketches followed by four fittings. Zoe’s dress began with the ideas I’d been working on, combined with the brief she gave me, then the design was funnelled through a refinement process to take into account feedback from Zoe and a stylist until a final design was agreed on.  Then began the process of making. One thing I really enjoyed was the excitement of everyone involved throughout.  I think I expected jaded Logies veterans, but the team at Channel Seven seemed to really enjoy the process.   A comment that came up often was that this dress was so “Zoe”.  I got the very strong impression that everyone felt that it was the fact that the dress had been designed with the exact wearer in mind that made it successful.

Fourth fitting. The gown is largely finished but for the belt and the hem, and some pieces still need to be sewn in place. It is finished and delivered to channel seven the day of the event!

¹Chapman, J. 2009. Design for (emotional) durability. Design Issues, 25, 29-35.

²Clark, H. 2008. SLOW + FASHION – an Oxymoron – or a Promise for the Future…? Fashion Theory, 12, 427-446.

Dress Poem!

“some draped as though one

stitch was the sole anchor”

Spirit of the Black Dresses photographed by Lou Pardi on the streets of Melbourne inspired BusinessChic to commission a poem on the subject from Sophie Curzon-Siggers.  An excerpt and beautiful picture is published on BusinessChic’s blog – that’s my dress second from right!  The full poem is published on Sophie’s blog.

Dress Stories

What do the following scenarios all have in common?

In 2004, a (perhaps) ridiculous number of Australian women stayed up way past their bedtime to watch and comment on the wedding of Tasmanian born Mary Donaldson to Crown Prince Frederick of Denmark, and in 2010 bookmakers offered odds on the designer of Kate Middleton’s wedding dress when she marries Prince William later this year.

Rebecca Twigley caused a sensation at the 2004 Brownlow medal in “that dress” a red gown by Ruth Tarvydas featuring a neckline that plunged to the waist.

I know that one year, Julia Roberts wore a Vintage black and white Valentino gown to the Oscars, but I can’t for the life of me remember what film she won an award for.

I made a blue brocade bodice and silver skirt with flat blue shoes (because I am so tall) to wear to my school formal and I have made three wedding dresses for my girlfriends over the years, they have five children between them and two of them are still married.

All of these scenarios have to do with dresses.  Big, important occasion dresses whose memorial durability far outlasts their active wardrobe life.  I call them all “Red Carpet” dresses because to me “Red Carpet” describes an out of the ordinary event that one prepares for with the consciousness that they will be subjected to an unusual level of scrutiny.

The other point about these scenarios is that they have to do with narrative.  There is a story in all of the statements that is told either about the dress or through the dress.  There are also two types of narrators in the examples above. There is a self reflective narrative, what I wore, what happened and how I felt about it, and there is an observational narrative that is also self reflective, what they wore and how that affected me.

A dress is a lovely item to construct a narrative around.  It is rich in description.  Technical proficiency is not necessary because there are a myriad of colloquial descriptors such as shimmery, shiny, princess like…  The role of occasion dresses in important milestones mean that stories about them speak of broader themes.  As well as a personal narrative, a dress can become a collective cultural narrative.  It is through the collective consumption and telling of multiple stories about a dress that we describe, reach consensus and define cultural norms and moral standards.

Of course any garment can be a narrative so I’ve tried to find other research to support and explain my hypothesis that a dress is a particular type of garment…with little success. There are many books that describe the different types of evening dresses such as cocktail dress, dinner dress, ball dress.  These tend toward historical classification that has little to do with the contemporary uses of occasionwear.  For example, the celebrity red carpet dress is one type of dress that really should be understood as a category in its own right.  It has had an interesting evolution and has today a broad popular culture influence and appeal.  An analysis of recent haute couture collections by designers such as Elie Saab and Valentino suggests that designers are designing a significant part, if not all of their haute couture collection specifically for the red carpet.  For these designers the category “red carpet” is far more relevant to their collection than “cocktail dress”.  I also believe that if I ask someone today to tell me the difference between a “school formal dress” and a “bridesmaid dress” they will tell me a far more elaborate story about social norms and taboos than if I ask them to distinguish between a “ball gown” and a “dinner dress”.

And yet this still does not answer the question as to why a dress tells a better story than any other garment, why it is consistently the focus of museum exhibitions, haute couture collections, the garment of choice for the biggest celebrity photo opportunities and for our most significant rites of passage.

Understanding what a dress is not is perhaps the best way to understand what it is.  A dress is not the most significant garment in all cultures, therefore it is a product of western culture.  A dress is not the most significant delineator of masculinity, therefore it is a marker of femininity, and the forms of dresses I have identified here have not always been important, therefore it is a product of its time.  So the question then, becomes, what factors of time, culture and gender have rendered the dress such a significant garment?

The title of this post “Dress Stories” and the link between dresses and narrative is taken form the book Not just any dress : narratives of memory, body, and identity edited by Sandra Weber and Claudia Mitchell