Memories of a Dress

From London to Chicago.... it feels like a whirlwind. This weekend, I will be attending the Costume Society of America Mid-west conference in order to present my project: Memories of a Dress. 

Peach and cream silk evening gown c.1910-1915
Ryerson Fashion Research Collection
Photo by Ingrid Mida 2012

Here is the abstract for my talk:

Clothing is material memory, carrying the imprints of our body, absorbing sweat and stains, and straining with the stress of wear, especially at seams, hems and closure points. Although museums and study collections generally seek to collect items in near-perfect condition, there are stories hidden in the marks and stains of living. In a poetic essay, Peter Stallybrass describes how the clothes of his late colleague Allon White triggered sensory memories. “He was there in the wrinkles of the elbows, wrinkles that in the technical jargon of sewing are called ‘memory’; he was there in the stains at the very bottom of the jacket; he was there in the smell of the armpits” .

The Ryerson University Fashion Research Collection is a repository of several thousand garments and accessories acquired by donation, with the oldest garments dating back to 1860. For several years, this collection was dormant and largely unknown by the student body, and in editing the collection I examined each and every item within the storage facility. It was during the process of handling of each piece that I was haunted by the traces of the makers in the hand-stitching and the turns of the hem, and by the traces of the owners in the faint sweat stains under the arms and the worn patches at the elbows. There is such poignancy in these pieces, because they are still beautiful, but not to a pristine, museum-like standard. Some of these garments are in an advanced stage of decomposition, literally crumbling into dust due to the presence of weighted silk, and embody a duality of beauty and decay, life and death, emptiness and nostalgia, memory and transience. These fragments, which mirror the fragmentary nature of the records, became the source of my curatorial obsession.

In this project called Memories of a Dress, I created a series of photographs focusing on the rare historic garments in the Collection, and manipulated those images to suggest narratives that evoke the concepts of memory, fragility and transience. Roland Barthes in Camera Lucida defined photography as an artistic medium that was intimately linked with death as “a witness of something that is no more”, and this project fixes the process of decomposition in time, marking a moment that has already passed as the items continue on their trajectory into dust. 

What's on the Fashion Calendar in September 2013?

Other than the rollout of Fashion Weeks around the world, there is a long list of fashion-related events and exhibitions on the calendar for September 2013. My picks for the month include:

Interwoven Globe
Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

September 16, 2013: The Opening of Interwoven Globe: The Worldwide Textile Trade, 1500-1800 at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City.

This is the first major exhibition to explore the global circulation of design through the trading of textiles from the 16th to the early 19th century through the medium of textiles.  This exhibition features 134 works in order to tell the visual history of design, exploring the interrelationship of textiles, commerce, and taste.


September 18, 2013: The Opening of Farandole: Perspectives on Western Metis Culture at the Textile Museum of Canada.

This show, a combination of textile art, fashion and art installation, promises to be a visual feast -- combining the couture garments crafted by French fashion designer and embroiderer Pascal Jaouen adjacent to a room-sized embroidered textile installation by Franco-Manitoban visual artist Colette Balcaen.


September 20-21, 2013: Uncommon Beauty, The CSA Mid-west Conference in Chicago.

At this annual conference of the mid-west section of the Costume Society of America, I will present "Memories of a Dress".


September 25, 2013: David Bowie at the Art Gallery of Ontario in Toronto.

On its first stop on its world tour, this exhibition from the Victoria and Albert Museum celebrates the David Bowie's collaborations in the fields of fashion, sound, theatre, art and film. presenting more than 50 stage costumes plus music videos, set designs, photographs and excerpts from films and live performances. Organized thematically, the show immerses visitors in a spectacular and interactive trip through Bowie’s numerous personae and legendary performances, with particular attention paid to his artistic influences. (And of course, if you have not seen it yet,  combine your visit with a tour of Ai Weiwei: According to What? also at the AGO).


September 28, 2013: Alaia at the Palais Galliera, Musee de la Mode de la Ville de Paris.

After being closed for several years, curator Olivier Saillard will reopen the newly renovated galleries of the Palais Galliera with a retrospective of the work of designer Azzedine Alaia. On display will be 70 garments tracing the trajectory of the designer's career set amongst a scenography by designer Martin Szekely. Alaia is known for his highly sculptured dresses that hug every curve, articulated through his mastery of cut.

Notice of copyright: 
All text and images on this blog are the copyright of Ingrid Mida, unless otherwise noted. The copying of posts, images and/or text without proper attribution is violation of copyright and legal action will be pursued.

Creative Process Journal: Memories of a Dress

Beginning the first page, post or sketch is the hardest part... and this post marks the beginning of my latest creative project: Memories of a Dress. If you have been a follower of this blog for a while, you might recall the series of photos about my mother's dresses called My Mother/Myself. 

In this series, I photographed dresses that belonged to my mother in the barren winter settings of a local ravine. The intent was to convey my sense of desolation and despair over my mother's decline in health and mobility from Parkinson's disease. I still have these dresses and am unable to part with them, even though they lack provenance or value, because they embody her memory.

Many women have dresses or other garments that hang at the back of their closets, long out of fashion, but imbued with memories of a person, an event or time in their life that they wish to remember (Banim and Guy 217). Disposing of that garment can be difficult, and museum curators and managers of study collections can be overwhelmed with requests to accept donations of wedding dresses, special occasion gowns and other items that have emotional significance to the wearer yet lack provenance or significance from a curatorial standpoint. In fact, I know this now firsthand since dealing with donation offers is part of my job as Collections Coordinator of the Fashion Research Collection at Ryerson University's School of Fashion.

Poll Results: What is in Your Closet that You No Longer Wear?

Vintage Tea Dress by Ingrid Mida 2008

Over the course of the past six weeks, I've run an informal poll on the sidebar of my blog asking readers to  answer a four questions about what is in their closets. There were 56 respondents to the initial poll question.

Do you keep items of clothing in your closet that you no longer wear?
The vast majority of respondents (94%) answered yes.

How many items of clothing that you are no longer wearing do you have?
71% (38 people) had more than 10 items of clothing in their closet that they no longer wear.
15% (8 people) had between 1-5 items.
13% (7 people) had between 5-10 items.

What items of clothing that you no longer wear are you keeping? 
Possible choices included: wedding dress, other formal attire, work clothing, clothing gift from someone, clothing belonging to a beloved family member, and other.

Because multiple answers were permitted, the results are not as clear. 48 people answered this question about 2-3 items of clothing. It would appear that the vast majority of kept clothing includes: wedding dresses, formal attire and work clothing.

Why do you think you are keeping these items of clothing?
Of the 43 people that responded to this question, most people (79%) answered that they kept an item because they might wear it someday.
The next most popular answer was that it reminded them of a special time or event in their life.
Other possible answers included that it was too expensive to throw away which got 12 votes and it was given to me by someone that I care about which got 11 votes.

Although my poll was informal and unscientific, I think the results suggest that this would be a fruitful area of research. Although I already have one masters degree, I'm contemplating going back for another and I think this would be a fruitful area of research. To read about the project that inspired my poll, click here.

If you would like to answer a more detailed questionnaire about the clothing in your closet, please email me at artismylife@mac.com. And as well, I'm interested in posting more stories about a memory related to a special item of clothing for my Memories of a Dress Project.

What is in the back of your closet that you no longer wear? Do tell!

Memories of a Summer Dress by Von

Sketch of My Summer Dress by Von 2010

When I was about the age of seven, my mother made me a dress with her first electric sewing machine, a Pfaff. Until then, she had used a treadle Singer and made everything that she and I wore except for underwear and socks.

Much to my chagrin, I never wore a stitch of bought clothing until I was old enough to buy my own and I often longed for a cheap cotton dress that looked like the ones everyone else wore. If the truth be known,  I was mortified by some of the outfits I had to wear, but could never speak out or express my distaste; children didn’t in those days. There were other visible signs of difference between me and the other girls, but the clothes were the most obvious difference or seemed so to me at the time.

The new summer dress seemed in some way to even things out. It was a light cotton, with a pattern of pink and green flowers and leaves on a white background. The style and fabric made it comfortable and it looked fresh and clean. The bodice was cut in four sections with  ruffles running  from the front  waist over the shoulder down the back to the waist. It was cut so that a small cap sleeve was formed on the top of the shoulder. The skirt was cut in panels, so that it fell neatly from the waist, but flared slightly at the hem. It felt very gown up. Looking back, I always felt good in that dress and was my first dress that had this effect.

When the cold weather came on, the dress was hung in the wardrobe. I must have been going through a growth spurt, because when the next summer arrived, it no longer fit. I was very sad knowing that  I would never wear it again and I longed to have a replica made in a larger size and the same again the next year and the next. I felt I could go on wearing this dress forever.

That summer there was a serious bushfire in our area and many families lost their homes and everything they possessed. Mothers culled the wardrobes of any clothes that could be spared, anything that no longer fit. When school started again at the end of summer, there was a strong sense of comfort in being back in a safe environment, especially for those who had suffered the loss of their homes and those who had narrowly escaped. For me there was the odd dislocation of seeing someone a year younger wearing my favourite, special dress on a normal school day, which, given the events of the summer, was far from normal.

My feelings too were complicated by the fact that I was adopted. Adoptees start life with one identity, which is changed by adoption, so that at times I have grappled with having two sides to my life and two identities. When I was a child, I had no choice about clothing and this created feelings of loss. Over time, I've been able to think through how I want to present myself. It used to be an area of vulnerability, but is something that I worked through years ago. In my life today, I am comfortable in work clothes mucking out but I also enjoy the classics, good quality and design. I have it all!

Von is the author of the blogs The Good Life (Life in the Slow Lane) and also Once There was Von.


What is hanging in the back of your closet? Do you have memories of a special dress? This Memories of a Dress Project is an extension my documentation of the dresses my mother wore. I encourage all of you who have a dress or special outfit hanging at the back of your closet to share your memories with me. Please email me at artismylife@mac.com to participate. 

Why do Women Keep Clothes They No Longer Wear?

 Photo by Ingrid Mida 2010

The most interesting part of the book Through the Wardrobe, Women's Relationships with Their Clothes was the chapter called "Discontinued Selves: Why do Women Keep Clothes They No Longer Wear?" by Maura Banim and Ali Guy.

Like many women, I have clothes at the back of my closet that I no longer wear but simply cannot yet part with. These items embody special memories for me. That is why I read Chapter 12 of Through the Wardrobe first, before going back to reread the rest of the book.

In their introduction to the chapter, Banim and Guy mention that the relationships that women have with clothes they keep but no longer wear is one aspect of clothing "that has received little attention in the literature and when it has been mentioned it has often been in disparaging terms".

In their research they gathered and interpreted data from 15 women who:
1. provided a personal account that reflected their interest in clothes
2. kept a clothing diary for 2 weeks
3. participated in an interview alongside their wardrobes

Some notable quotes from the women participating in this research included the following:

"They've got histories to them...and that makes them more difficult to get rid of." Pam

"Really I don't wear these clothes - I just kind of keep them". Julie


"There's nothing really wrong with it - it just isn't me." Jill

"I've got one item at the moment that I absolutely hate and I can't bring myself to throw it out because I've only recently bought it." Helen

"I keep thinking that's a lovely dress but I'll never wear it." Sheila

"I have enjoyed wearing it but the colour's not right at the moment, it's out of fashion but I can see myself coming back to it." Wendy

"I have two hideous nighties which I never wear. I keep them in case I have to go to the hospital." Deborah

"This drawer is full of things my mother has knitted. I'm quite ashamed of all the things I don't wear. Where do you put things that your mother knit but you didn't wear?" Sheila

These particular quotes highlight some of the reasons that women keep clothes they no longer wear:
* memories or association with a particular event, person, or identity;
* the cost or quality of the item;
* the chance that the item might come back in style or be appropriate in presenting a particular image.

In their conclusion, Banim and Guy state:
"Kept clothes are not only tangible reminders of past identities but, more importantly, they provide a set of symbolic links across women's past, present and future identities. Women's decisions about keeping these clothes and the status of these clothes are often ambiguous as the meanings associated with them are often complex....We found that kept clothes can enable a woman to remember who she was, who she could be, and who she wants to continue being. Some of these items also help her establish who she isn't or who she doesn't want to be". (page 216)

The researchers suggested that this a field ripe for more study. They wondered if "throwing out these clothes represent a woman's decision to let go of part of herself". 


Please share your thoughts on this subject by participating in the blog poll or leaving a comment.

This post also gives me a chance to remind readers about my Memories of a Dress project . I am attempting to collect memories associated with a special dress or outfit worn by yourself or a female relative. To participate, please leave a comment or email me at artismylife@mac.com.

And if you are ready to let go of your special items and are looking for a good home, please consider donating them to Seneca College Fashion Resource Centre in Toronto. For more information, please see my post Hidden Treasures or contact Dale Peers, Coordinator at dale.peers@senecac.on.ca

Memories of a Wedding Dress by Linda Griffith

My Mum and I aren’t exactly in the same dress camp. One might say that our tastes are a little different although far from worlds apart. We do, however, share a mutual admiration for each others ‘style’ except on a very few and far between occasions when one of us might be heard uttering, “you aren’t wearing that are you?”

My childhood memories are scattered with images of my Mum getting ready for a night on the town, standing in front of a long narrow mirror, left foot in gold sandal, right in silver, turning her body fluidly from East to West as she judged the angles, or the curves or the flounces, the fabric swirling like a life-force around her slender frame.

“Wear that one Mummy. Wear the pink satin. Please, please wear the pink satin,” I pleaded from the double bed, kicking my feet by way of emphasis on the bobbled coverlet. There would follow a list of unsatisfactory reasons as to why my first choice wasn’t suitable: neither warm enough, nor long enough nor comfortable enough. Fashion fob-offs, which meant little to me and seldom swayed me from my shiny choices, but cemented her selection as non-negotiable.

Standing on the bed I could help with the zip, pouting belligerently over her shoulder and into the mirror, looking like a grumpy parrot. In an effort to compensate she artfully left the choosing of the jewelry to me, and easily diverted I would delve with determination into her jewelry box, and retrieve my favorite baubles from the velvet encased wooden jewel box, which was unceremoniously stuffed under the bed.

There were a few dresses I almost coveted, but not many. I liked them on her, but didn’t think I would like them on me. Except for one – her wedding dress. This dress I wanted above all else, with a passion so intense it could reduce me to tears. I would stand in front of the only picture she had of her wedding day with my Mum and Dad in black and white standing shoulder to shoulder, the serious smiles on their faces misleading compared to the passion and spontaneity that marked their half-century as man and wife. My Mum’s dress hovering just barely on the very edges of her shoulders and three wide tucks sweeping to interlace like fingers near her breastbone. I imagined the fabric meeting there, like a material metaphor for their lives joining right at her heart. Somehow the photographer managed to blur the lines so the edges are shaded which leaves me eternally squinting to see which tuck lies under and which lies over, as though they are caught in an embrace and one can’t see exactly where one body ends and the other starts. And then it stops. The portrait is taken waist up, and barely that.

Many times my Mum has described the dress to me - the ballerina length,  the tight waist,  the full skirt creating a perfectly inverted V, the lack of bows and scallops and fringes, and the clean simplicity of line. She has drawn it for me as best she can remember. She has pointed out satin backed taffeta, which replicates the feel but not the shade. She has measured on my longer legs where the hem would fall. She has draped sheets and tulle, and pulled them in tightly cinching my waist, but her efforts leave me hungry for more.

She lent this dress to a friend whom I presume over time became a distant friend and then an acquaintance and somewhere in the decay of their relationship the dress vanished from a tangible treasure and became a single picture of history.

Five years ago I had the photo enlarged to mark the occasion of my parents 50th wedding anniversary and it stands behind me, reflected in my computer screen, so I catch glimpses of my parents smiling at me over my shoulder as I type. Occasionally, I swivel my chair and lose myself in thinking about them, and their marriage, and what their wedding was like. Many of my questions have been answered either by experience or by interrogation, but the dress remains a mirage. It’s like a sealed letter, which I cannot open.

The irony here lies in the fact that I know with unshakable certainty that I would have LOVED that dress, wanted it, worn it, adored it. It is exactly me, more so than perhaps anything I ever saw my Mum wear in full length, 3-D form. It’s a fairytale dress with a magical hem, and although I often change the ending according to stylish whimsy, the top third of the dress confirms that it is indeed a beautiful ending.


by Linda Griffith, Toronto, Ontario

Memories of A Fashion Plate Mom

When you grow up as the daughter of a fashion plate, the lessons of fashion are learned by osmosis. Artist Lesley Haas, who uses fashion as a source of inspiration for her artwork,  has described her mom as a fashion plate.

Lesley has fond memories of watching her mom dress up for events. As a a fashion writer and publicist and board member of Fashion Group Philadelphia, Phyllis Haas had to dress well for her job. And Lesley remembers her energetic mom in "out of the ordinary attire, quite different from my friends' mothers, going to work every day and keeping up with the fashion trends. She worked hard and enjoyed these galas and events and loved to dress for each occasion."

In this photo, Lesley's mother and father are dressed for a holiday party in a beautiful building on Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia. Phyllis is wearing a black velvet sleeveless gown with a scoop neck circa 1960.  Although Lesley no longer has the dress to check the label, she recalls her mom being label conscious and really enjoying dressing up for parties. Lesley also remembers that she "would run around upstairs watching her get ready while my father generally complained about going, as he wasn't a fashion plate like she was.."

For many people, photos like this take us back in time, bringing back happy memories of watching our mothers dress up. For Lesley Haas, fashion has become a source of inspiration for her artwork and two of her works will be on display at the Smithsonian International Gallery in the Revealing Culture exhibition, June 8-August 9, 2010.  (To read more about Lesley's work, read her profile here or visit her website here.)

My Vintage Parisian Coat by Ingrid Mida

I am a coat person. My GH (gorgeous husband) likes to tease me on how many coats I have - he says I have one for every few degree of temperature variation. Of all the coats I own, this one is my favourite as it comes closest to portraying the real me. This beauty is a vintage coat from Paris (circa 1955-1960 if I had to guess) and has a glorious turquoise lining. And although the sleeves are about an inch too short for my arms (who was the tiny gamine who wore this coat before me?), I often wear it with fushia pink leather gloves that come to the elbow. The  tweed wool rose which is pinned to the label was an addition sourced from a run-of-the-mill retailer. I also consider it my lucky coat since I wore it to a portfolio review at Wagner Rosenbaum Gallery and was awarded my first commercial gallery show while wearing it!

I hope you will join me in sharing the memories behind your favourite dress, coat or outfit. I'd also like to hear stories and memories of outfits that might have belonged to your mother, grandmother, sister or other female relative. Please email me at artismylife@mac.com with your photo and stories.

My Juliet Dress by Catherine of a Thousand Clapping Hands

When I moved to New York City in 1976, I settled in the Village and loved going round to all the local shops. There was one on Sullivan or Thompson that had nothing but dresses from Afghanistan. I had no idea...just that they were exotic and captivating, with full velvet sleeves, heavy embroidery, little round mirrors (many missing), and a neckline of little orange beads. The shopkeeper told me that one was a wedding dress from Afghanistan and that it was over 100 years old - but I don't think so as far as the age goes because there are clearly sewing machine stitches.

I wore that dress every Christmas for years. And I wore it all over New York, too. In my mind, I thought I was Juliet because the style was similar to a dress worn by Olivia Hussey in Zefferelli's movie of Romeo and Juliet. (What can I say? I was only eighteen.)

Your project will have so many of us reminiscing. I look forward to stopping by often and reading other people's dress memories.

Catherine

Blog: A Thousand Clapping Hands

My Mother's Dresses

Clothing evokes memories. Many women have several dresses or suits hanging in the back of the closet that they cannot give away. These garments  embody a memory of a special time or belonged to someone they loved, like a mother, grandmother or sister.

A dress is literally a metaphor for a woman. It is a second skin, forming a protective barrier between one’s self and the world and the choices of style and material provide clues as to one’s self image, social class, profession and identity.

This past winter I photographed some evening dresses belonging to my mother. Sadly, the lovely purple satin dress she is wearing in the photo above was not in her closet. But there were several others including a gold brocade dress with matching jacket, a copper coloured Indian silk dress, a black lace dress and a long silver brocade dress. I did a series of documentary photos as well as a set of photographs in ravine settings hoping to evoke a sense of haunted beauty in bleak and barren surroundings. To see selected images from that series, please visit my website.

Many people who saw these photographs of my mother's dresses were reminded of a specific dress that their mother or grandmother wore. And sometimes that dress was still hanging in the back of a closet, too precious to give away. It seems that clothes can embody the essence of a person. 

I wish I had a story to tell about my mother wearing this beautiful brocade dress. It came with a matching jacket and is in pristine condition. I don't recall seeing my mother wearing it, but it clearly meant something to her as I found a scrap of matching fabric in a drawer the other day. 

The style of dress is one that I wear often. Classic, fitted and elegant, this cut of dress suits my figure and I have many versions of this type of dress in my closet. Although I would never have described my mother as a fashionista, clearly at one time in her life, she took great care with her dress.

I only have a few items belonging to my mother that are worthy of being photographed - not enough to have a show or write a book. However, I realize that there are many beautiful dresses and suits hanging in closets that have stories. I hope to find some women in Toronto and southern Ontario who will let me photograph some of those dresses and record the stories which someday will be featured in a gallery show. 

I also hope that there are people around the world who might also wish to participate in an online version of this project. If you wish to share memories about a special dress, either one that belongs to you or someone you knew, please contact me at artismylife@mac.com.