Dear Difficult Difficult Lemon Difficult (Dress 208-217)

Dear Difficult Difficult Lemon Difficult (Day 163)

Right now is



Which is why i stuffed up for the second time in a week.

Apololololologies.

Dress I: Layers of folded matte silk reinforced to give it the sharp edge.

Dress II: The synthetic mesh is placed on a metal mannequin and then sprayed (a-la McQueen

) but instead of it being paint, the artist (not machines) sprays a variety of chemicals (each with a different colour reaction), that when coming into contact with synthetic mesh it eats away at the fabric in a three dimensional ‘ burn’ (hence the metal mannequin)













Dress III: inspired by Sydney Nolan’s paintings of Ned Kelly.

Dress IV: Spring/Autumn

Dress V: neckline is cutout of same shape as the appliquéd butterflies.

Dress VI: inspired by the art of the Mix Tape. The loop that looks like a ‘B’ is the curled ribbon/tape at the back of the halter tie.

Dress VII: fallen clock in appliqué. Halter neck dress.

Dress VIII: stone in a pool dress. Layers of mesh, beginning at the neckline and restarting at the ‘rock’

Dress IX: Himalaya dress. Hand painted silk.

Dress X: Inspired by the Eiffel-esque spire of the Melbourne arts Centre.

All my love,

Ip.



Ip.

Dear Stranger (Dress 171)

Dear Stranger

I lent you the shade of my shoddily made spotty umbrella, before the wind turned it out- I think we must have made a lovely image, two girls, laden with bags, holding an inside-out umbrella for dear life- somewhat like an alteration I made to a statue in the gardens once. It’s a Grecian copy- A hammer thrower mid-swing.

There was an article in the paper about it, and how every day someone stole the brass hammer, until the authorities, sick of the expense, replaced it with a spray painted length of broom handle and Styrofoam (or something equally cheap). That got stolen too- It seems it was more mischief than brass. I went past that statue twice a day for four years- and like clockwork, there he’d be; straining on the weight of cheap plastic in the morning, and then, in the evening, the hammer-thrower, straining on the weight of air. One day, at the death of my umbrella, I brought a couple of friends with me to give him the upturned object. Needless to say he looked rather silly. So did we (I suspect).

In the morning, my umbrella was gone.

This is all that is left.

(I’m ok with that. I think it is my nicest design to date.)

All my love,

IP

Dear Abbotsford (Dress 167)

Dear Abbotsford,

Oh my.
Oh wow.
Can you say French architecture? And Victorian plasterwork? And Gold-Rush Era bluestone gorgeousness?
That doesn’t fix the fact that this dress looks more Playschool than a homage to architecture.
Oh well.
All my love,

IP

Dear Lucksmiths (Dress 148)

Dearest Lucksmiths,
I went to your penultimate concert last year with my father- totally unaware of how lovely you were, or that the gentleman who worked at the greengrocers in my street was your bassist. There is something intensely australian about you, without being Casey Chambers grating or Missy Higgins samey.
There's a song called Fiction (from Warmer Corners) which is what I based this dress on.

The song is really clever, and sweet, and darn catchy too.

Listen to the song- and then look at the dress and it should all make sense.
The 'Fiction' bit is printed on mesh, and the Firs on the front of the dress are painted on. They're from one of the album covers, First Frost- which has another of my favourite songs on it; Lament of the Chiming Wedgebill.
)
Enjoy!
All my love,
IP

Dear Metro (Dress 119)

Dear Metro,
you don't deserve a dress.
Why?
'Cause you royally suck.
But who else am I going to dedicate a Train-based dress to?
XO
IP

Dearest Irit (Dress 97)

Dearest Irit,
You are adorably frightened of ferris wheels.
You are also my aunt. There may or may not be pictures of six-year-old-ip holding your hand and smiling as you scream your lungs out at Luna Park....
I ought to toddle off to bed, but just a quick update:
Onto book 4 of the 365series.

It looks like there will be 12, maybe 13? depends on how many 10dress penalties I have to do. So exciting to line them up like this! It really looks possible.
All my love,
IP

Dear Eduardo (and other strangers) or: Dress 66

Dear Eduardo (and other strangers)
You make travelling interesting, and humbling. You make leaving the house exciting and full of possibility and potential. Who might I meet next? Where are they from? Where are they going? Will I ever see them again? (probably not.)

Thankyou for the thousand conversations,
All my love,

Dearest Federation Square (Dress 22)

Dearest Federation Square,

Passing by you on the tram, delirious with the current illness that seems to have everyone in it's grasp, I gaze at the gorgeous panelling, remeniscent of the beautiful panelling on antique planes.

(via johnnyjet.com)

Which reminds me of the absolutely STUNNING original 1960's Ford Falcon belonging to the greengrocer, distressingly bad condition, except for the perfect hood ornament, a flying aeroplane/stingrayesque shape...

(via taillightking.com)

And then, we have the 'no hangers here' dress:

(sorry about the poor quality of the image. I'll do it later when I feel better.)

All my love,

Dear Melbourne Weather,

Dear Melbourne Weather,

You're crazy and wild and wonderful. And when I saw piles of golf-ball sized hailstones piled up against the RMIT facade I knew you'd pop up in my designs at some point this week. All mixed in with the sweet pollockequeness of this exhibition by Julia Chiang:

(via designboom)

Comes on cotton, and could be done in particular colour groups (autumny colours, pastels, straight blues etc.)

Goodnight,
All my love,