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the way of wonder
getting into gladrags
off the body
and onto the wall
couleur couleurs
following fancy
now! this! here!
links
silk wrap-around skirt and camisole
hand dyeing and beading
cotton tunic
hand dyeing and screen printing
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New Zealand, Australia, England, USA, Germany
1965 - 1987
It was a scenario unlikely to foster
curiosity and creativity in any child: a barren burrow devoid of art or books -
or excess funds to buy any; a small grey drizzly coastal city shivering against
the gusts that roared up from the Antarctic; a handful of islands at the end of
the Earth.
Creativity, tightly contained within the constraints of functional family needs,
was otherwise dismissed as a time-wasting self-indulgence. Yet in this child there simmered an innate
love of color, of design, of making things, and it found its natural expression
in the creation of things to wear. And so, as typically happens, a mix of
constraints and circumstances laid down my path, forging a self-taught maker of
what would years later be called 'wearable art'.
Constraints can be powerful triggers for creativity. In New Zealand we often heard our elders talk about
necessity being the mother of invention:
- no lusciously colored or patterned fabrics?
Make your own: learn about fibers, about surface design, about dye chemistry.
- no courses or workshops?
Get thee to the library and do the necessary research.
(The Internet hadn't been invented yet!)
- no capital to create a retail outlet for your work?
Arts and Crafts Councils didn't exist and grants were a dream for the future.
Marketing was done in real time, suitcase in hand, on foot, face-to-face. And a
bread-and-butter range was essential to support the masterworks.
Two decades passed and hundreds of garments were created. I was a
one-woman label - designing, pattern-making, cutting,
dyeing, painting, sewing, embroidering, decorating, marketing and sometimes even
taking on the modeling. Why? I guess I was too much of a
perfectionist to be able to find the right assistance; and besides, I couldn't
afford to pay wages. Profit margins were slim.
Self-taught, stubborn and tirelessly curious to see what was possible, I had amassed an impressive repertoire of
skills and knowledge in fiber art, and as well, a mountain of questions about the whole process of creating.
When the fascination for gladrags faded it was those questions that propelled me forward, taking my fiber art skills with me.
Discontent was pushing me towards a different trail on the via creativa. I felt unsure and unprepared for
what might lie ahead. Yet I was in no doubt that the old door had to close. I was scared;
I didn't understand that I was in the grip of a destiny determined by my own curiosity.
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