I’m stuck ’cause I think I should write my posts all in verse, making it hard to compose, and, what is worse …
There are no photos, nor drawings nor sketches, no pretty pictures or images and I seem to have two blogs with the same title but they don’t look the same even though they have the same theme.
I want to talk about the dizingof fashion show I went to the other week at Match Bar in the cbd. Noice, real noice.
Here are some observations: there was a lot of black with details in red Japanese prints, a tried and true combination which reminded me of many clothes I’ve seen at Lupa over the years but seems to be an enduring trend. There were puffy skirts with a sculptural sort of look, quite a bit of tiered stuff going on and strong geometrical sort of detail. Lovely use of Japanese kimono fabric (who doesn’t adore that?) in strong colours. The 1930s style wide-legged pants made an appearance along with a bolero (gotta love a bolero) and some big collars, big buttons, irregular stitching, asymmetrical hemlines, nods a plenty to the 80s. Classic, interesting, elegant clothes, strong and individual without being gimmicky. Good structured jackets. Some karate type white silk tops with black ribbon. And dresses with gills in the skirts. Most effective. Gorgeous stuff. Could easily wear any of it. Grown-up clothes but funky.
Speaking of Japanese kimono prints, my darling friend Graeme and I discovered a chap selling katagami stencils at Rose St market. Lovely old tools for printing kimonos made from mulberry paper strengthened with persimmon tannin. Oh, they are divine! You don’t know whether to use them or frame them. Actually you do … While you’re at Rose St market do have a look at my friend Esther’s very wonderful digital photographs. Very cool. The girl has an eye. Her stall is close to the katagami bloke.
I liked what I saw; such talent abounds!
I couldn’t help noticing, while looking around
at how muted and pastel all the products were hued
everything designed in a mood most subdued;
as though colour was seen to be vulgar and bright
too hard on the eye; only subtle is right.
Well, here’s a prediction for the coming season:
I have noted (and not without reason)
we’ll soon see colours bright, cheery and dramatic
enticing us down from our dim-lit, pastelly attic
The dictators of fashion are so very precise
they kindly include in their unchallenged advice
the exact pantone numbers of the colours to wear
so we may step out in style, without a tremor of fear
that our clothes may be dated or the colours all wrong, confident, knowing we’ve got it right; we belong.
(Burnt orange, sulphur yellow, true red and deep teal, mint green contrasted with blue for extra appeal.)
But not only in clothes, in art and design too, you’ll observe
In a loud, brightly-hued direction, we all, herd-like, will swerve.
some resourceful soul, in LA, I think,
recycles cotton t-shirts worn by boys in the clink
all that masculine sweat (plus, we imagine, blood and tears)
renders the fabric softer than a kitten’s ears
reformed into delicate textured dresses
(after being thoroughly scrubbed of their inevitable messes)
selling for more than a prison song in an eco store
their origins add a sense of edge to couture