Dear Idea (Dress 177)

Dear Idea
A) Day 150! I am most excited.
B) I have had to postpone the making of this month's dress. What with Hamletmachine eating my days, and trying to keep house while my mother is away, I have no time.
BUT.
C) If I do another 365 next year (after a couple of months break.) I want to do a jewellery 365. It's broader, so there is more variety in what I can design, and therefore more freedom. This dress is based on a ring design I had, which i've seen in real life since then (someone else thought as I did.)
All my love,
IP

Dear Fashion, Image and Advertising (Dress 169)

Dear Fashion, Image and Advertising,
After a discussion on the nature of capitalism in Performance Class, going to a lecture on the elements of consumer culture was a no-brainer. The straps (and continuing lines) are thick satin ribbon, the ‘fringe’ ribbons at the base also. There are enamelled black numbers at the base of the dress.
All my love,
IP

Dear Korean Girl on the Train (Dress 152)

Dear Korean Girl on the Train,

You were adorable and inquisitive, and you asked me all sorts of questions about my drawings, and then proved in about 4 seconds how insanely far I have to go when it comes to drawing- hell but you draw fast, and accurate, and pretty!

This dress reminded you of a traditional Korean dress- and I see what you mean, but with a twist.

(Blue matte satin, and silver matte satin in the middle, seperated by 'bands' of rubber tubing filled with something vaguely mercurial.)

All my love,
IP

Dear Dianne Wynne-Jones (Dress 137)

Dear Dianne Wynne-Jones,
Your books were such a focus of my childhood- You were the author (along with Roald Dahl) upon whom I could always rely to transport me, sick, home from school, into another world without the mild headache or minor stomach upset (that, to a child seems plaguelike in proportion). One particular image (among many) that remains embedded is that of a tribe of strange elfin creatures that wear the (traditionally Gaellic? Welsh? English?) neck-jewellery, the Torc. Today's dress is in honor of that forgotten necklace.
(The drawing on the left is a view of the back. The Torc itself is made of silver, as are the balls at the end of the ribbon at the back. The ribbon is knotted around the Torc, and is part of the plain backless sheath dress part.)
All my love,
IP

Dear Donnini's (Dress 132)

Dear Donnini's,

Your pasta is freaking amazing. You've been selling it on Lygon Street for who-knows how long... And every time I go in there I remember why I want a pasta machine. Gorgeous, delicious ravioli in every colour and flavour (my favourite: Beetroot and ricotta, purely for the aesthetic appeal of translucent creamy parcels with their vibrant fuschia filling.) I thought a ravioli dress would look ridiculous, but that's not all you sell! You've got regular hand-made pasta too, fresh and everything. There is nothing lovelier than bunches of pasta, half-looped- the neckpiece of this dress would be silver reproductions of that pasta (detatchable for use as a necklace), with three or four wisps around the waist. The dress would be cream crepe over a light blue cotton (inked version to come later.)
All my love,

nom nom nom
IP

Dear Safta Haya, (Dress 118)

Dearest Safta (Grandmother in Hebrew),

It's strange, I only see you every ten years- and yet I feel I know you. We're remarkably similar, you and I- Our love of making things, of textures, and most particularly, of scent. A personal obsession of mine, the art of perfume and the chemistry of scent. Since reading The Emporor of Scent, by Chandler Burr i've been entranced by the collective power of the aesthetic and aromatic that is a flacon of perfume, and it's contents. You have a collection of old perfume bottles, mainly empty- for practicing your glass painting on.

When I was in Israel you gave me a half-full bottle of J'Adore, you said my grandfather (who passed away ten years ago) gave it to you. For all that you love it you said it is too subtle for you, too gentle- strange, for a woman of such delicacy, you look like Jackie Kennedy in the photos I have from my mother's childhood.

You handed me this beautiful little golden bottle, the gold colouring on the wire of the neck faded with age, and, wrapped in silk scarves i'd bought in Israel, it came all the way across the sea with me. And now, when I need to be reminded, soft clouds of pearly scent surround me.

Today's dress is corset-topped, wrapped in an even layer of bronze wire, the ends of which are bent over tiny silver beads, the back of the corset laced with silver ribbon. The skirts are navy silk, three layers, edged with the same silver ribbon used for lacing.

All my love,
IP.
P.S. Today is DAY 100! We've made it! Happiness and Delight! Rar.

Dear Nicola (Dress 93)

Dearest Nicola,
I'm really very fond of you, so it's strange that I really only see you once a year (at Sally's birthday). You study silversmithing, so I was thinking about how you could incorporate silver into a dress.
This dress is really rather awfully drawn, so my computer being an uploadbitch is a rather awesome coincidence. I'll post it as soon as it's fixed.
The idea was, two silver 'clips' made from old singer sewing machine plates (see here for an incredible archive of singer 'plates') to hold a cowl neck together, and hold about three inches of hem into a mirror of the neckline.
All my love,
IP

Dear Artaud (Dress 44)

Dear Antonin Artaud,
You really needed a hug, didn't you? That would have done the trick. A good hug and then maybe you wouldn't have written so much crazy (some moments of clarity and cleverness, but honestly, mostly crazy.)
Your life started so idyllic and lovely, and it was pretty much all downhill from there on.
In memory of industrial-era france:

This is; I have to say, one of my favourite dresses so far. Spraypainted double-layers of denim with small washers in the centre, on mesh (which is allowed to bunch and fold between the points of anchorage) with a cotton slip beneath.

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 Monash Radio (Dress 18)

Dear Monash Radio,

You host wonderful parties, full of people dancing exhuberantly unimpeded by embarrasment or fear. There is wonderful conversation to be had, and inspiring dresses to be seen. Therefore:

(Black mesh for the shoulders/sleeves area, Aluminium discs (2cm Diameterish?) sewn; scale-like on a satin-lined cotton shift.)

All my love