I love that play. I love that film. I love those words and those settings, those plots and those characters- and most of all I love that moment. That quivering vine from Roxane's hand all the way down to sweet enamoured Cyrano unerneath her balcony, whispering his love and praises of her through the lips of a man he cannot compete with.
I'd love to use traditional book-plate-printing techniques for this dress' design.
The image is Cyrano reclining in a book, from whence comes the wall, vine, balcony and window.
All my love,
IP.
Dearest Amanda F***ing Palmer,
I cannot express how much you inspire me. Your skill and artistic integrity mean you have the opportunity to work with some of the most interesting artists, musicians and performers in the international scene. You're not a sudden star- you've worked (and continue to work) hard, constantly to be where you are now, with your collaborative project with Jason Webley Evelyn Evelyn now touring internationally.
I saw you perform in Melbourne's Forum Theatre earlier this year- and I will never forget what that did to me. You took to the stage, vibrant, engaging and wildly charming, sang your soul out for two hours, and then- as promised, serenaded us from the gorgeous balcony with Radiohead's Creep. I cannot help but feel that every person in that audience was buoyed by that anthem of the disconnected.
What happened afterward is something I will always remember, and treasure. I waited to speak with you, and thank you, and after meeting you, I walked away shaking, and crying- because as much as I love your music, your artistry, your creative path- that's what enthralls me.
Your manager comforted me, and asked my name, and let me know that yes: you can do it. He manages your tours in the southern hemisphere, and he was in five films last year... So why not? That even your tour manager is an awesome bloke just cements my perception of you as a collaborator, these people come together to make something amazing because you bind them with charm, talent and ambition.
You are a role model for artists everywhere to go and do what they want; with whoever they can get; and do as much as they can with what they are given.
Not just all this... you're also about to marry one of my favourite authors, the incredibly skilled wordsmith, Mr Neil Gaiman. Damn. When his book Coraline was adapted into a film, and the film was nominated for an Oscar for animation you went along, and in true ballsy fashion- wore this:
Which was brave, funny, clever and stunning- and prompts this beaded dress over a silk slip (I'm not that brave.)
The beads are strung on long fine strings that are formed into that configuration as they are beaded.
Thankyou for your courage, your skill, and your generosity,
They've finally given you a name, and now i'm well on my way to making your mobile, three felt bunnies (half size) from the pattern at Hazlenut's Blog and lots of felt carrots coming out of a felt lettuce... it's a challenge.
You're ridiculously cute you two; both together and apart I'm really very fond of you. You're not one of those icky couples (to be honest, I didn;t know you were dating until a month+ afterwards!) but there is one gorgeous photo of Tom's birthday kiss that's just adorable.
In honour of your sweetness, and Banj's mad photoskills,
We used to go to your lifedrawing classes, my mum and I, every wednesday of my year 12. I don't remember his name, but there was a fellow there that did a lot of hypercolourful works in conte chalk and paint. I remember his teeshirts at the end of the three hour artwork extravaganza were covered in psychadelic smears of paint- the product of a brush absentmindedly cleaned in an almost feathery pattern from right hip to left shoulder. Why not make a dress a palette? I'd love to make this dress in plain white, and just let artists go wild in a range of them- have someone do action paintings, pollock-esque, or rennaisance oils, or dusty brilliantly coloured conte chalk.
This drawing is a little on the simple side in terms of colour, it's meant to be an example of what you could do with a white version of the dress.
The 'hole' on the right is meant to be a hole to the skin, but I think I drew it a little to large, if it were smaller i'd like it to show just a little of the under-breast.
You're a really awesome TV show, the first six episodes of which i'm rewatching to get the BF up to speed so we can watch the rest of it together (we ran out of Fringe. Don't judge me.)
All this science etc. got me thinking about all that dumb trivia- the heart is the same size as your fist, the skin in your lungs could cover a tennis court, your intestines could circle the earth
Ta Da!
Xoxo
IP
P.S. anyone that knows any more trivia? I got stuck after three, which seems kindof weak.
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.
Dearest Koko Black,
You make candied orange slices that are happiness and delight. Did I mention they're dipped in dark chocolate?
Nom
Nom
Nom
Nom.
All my love,
IP
(pieced silk with a double-belt with a bow.)
Your book was a central influence on my childhood, now, as it gets cold, I remember snuggling up in my cushion corner (I made one every winter next to the heater for reading) and reading the hours away. Your story entranced me, and enchants me still.
The dress is cotton dyed yellow with light blue printing.
Dear Mum,
I've always taken your art for granted. Growing up amongst beautiful things and amazing creative people. How lucky was I? Thanks.
A couple of years back you did an exhibition in Queensland where you made engraved ice columns (three) at intervals of two or so hours, so that there was always a highly detailed column, a column that had melted a fair bit and had little or no detail, and a column that had melted down until it was beginning to fall off the pole that held each doughnut-shaped 'brick' together. The columns melted into a giant glass boat, which in turn filled until two holes near the top of the boat, from whence water spilled into two bowls on the floor, each filled with various spices.
The spices just looked so stunning, and since my great-aunt sent us spices from Israel our kitchen smells heavenly, no wonder I can't get it off my mind!
Jersey T-shirt with soft printed spices.
All my love,
IP
Dearest Ilana,
You're lovely. I mean it- really truly lovely. You wrote me a sweet letter a fair while back that made my day when I needed it most- not just with the sweetness of the sentiment but the presentation too! Calligraphy monogram and your insanely pretty handwriting-all your style is like that- strong lines and intense contrasts. Yesterday after our class performance you were getting dressed for a party, and you were wearing this stunning satin backless creation that looked just amazing... so in honour of backlessness and the prettiness that is 1950s contrast:
(White satin, black calligraphyesque 'pool' lines, and half-strawberry (with cream) brooch.)
All my love,
IP.
Dearest Kishkoosh,
You were my mum's pet really, she absolutely adored you- clever and beautiful, and a lovely creature. I was so young that I was frightened of you- you were this big bird with a powerful beak and you didn't like me because I moved so quickly that I frightened you. Silliness. I realised how much a part of our family you were when the next-door-neighbours' dog killed you. I remember when my dad came to school to tell me- still shaking- he held you while you passed and buried you himself.
When Annie (my ex-drama teacher, and family friend) brought Charlie to us I felt like it was a chance to start fresh- but that didn't work out, because he hated men and kept trying to bite my Father.
I still think maybe one day I'll get my mum another Cockatoo- I know she misses you.
(Inked linen with a satin lining to structure it.)
All my love,
IP
Dear Lucy,
The first time I met you you were wearing a man's shirt and a pair of tights.
Damn brave.
This one's for you:
(The 'tails' are the back of the dress. cotton.)
All my love,
IP
I) flat metal cutlery on a mesh strap. dress is white linen (like tablecloths at a nice restaurant)
also comes in chequered red and white and with a white napkin under the cutlery.
II) flat copper studs on a red dress, or black? opaque crepe.
III) wire reinforced hood in greyblue crepe on a grey crepe dress
Dearest Kate, Stevie and ?
You were that hospital for a good three days... Wow. Congrats to a new little family.
So to Alice, or Olive, or the surprise out-of-left-field name they might pick for you.
Welcome little bean sprout!
(White silk stretched on solid thick white crepe, (switching to white elastic material on the neckpiece) with painted ink, and a leather tongue holding in the neckpiece.)
All my love,
Cousin IP
(Yeah. I'm evil. Sorry.)
Dearest Pina Bauch,
This dress was damn HARD. I've never designed and then made a dress from scratch- i'm not very happy with how it came out, but i'm just relieved it came out on time in one piece. It's really the wrong week to be making a dress- i'm stressed as hell and today has NOT been a good day, but knowing I'm carrying a product of my design in my bag is a pretty awesome feeling.
I started making the dress at about 3pm ( I think) it really did not work, and when I realised that the fabric did not stretch as much as I thought it did, and the quick-fix-remedy I tried did not work, I chucked a MASSIVE tear-fit, drank a glass of concrete (as they say), toughened the f*** up, and started again. Bloody hell. But I managed to salvage the skirt from the old dress for the new sleeves, and even though my machine freaked out towards the end the new dress was done by 11pm.
It fits like a hero (losing a kilo or two definately would not hurt either) as long as you don't look at the stitching on the inside. Nothing is worse than tension troubles in a machine.
These photos are even worse than the product, I'm just proving I made it, and I'll post proper photos later.
Image 1: just a plain shot of the dress hanging on my purple door. (awful, I know. I picked the colours for my room when I was 13!)
Image 2: Stretched out the sleeve so you can see the shape of it. If you look closely you can see the elastic straps.
Dearest Jorge,
I like you.
You're nice.
Translation: thanks for keeping me happy and/or sane. You're amazingly patient, especially when I just have to stay up that extra ten minutes to post the blog, or I have to turn the really bright light on at some ungodly hour to take the photo of the design (It's easier to take a photo of the book than to scan it. also: faster.) or when I suddenly, in the middle of my sentence and for no particular reason have to get the book and scribble an idea down. You're patient, and lovely, and pretty darn sweet, so your dress gets a title and everything: A meditation on Art Deco (or why I can't design another dress after the aesthetic of Bioshock II)
All my love, love, love,
IP.
P.S. I made the Pina Bausch dress today. It's not perfect... Hell it's not even very good, but it's the first dresss i've ever designed and made from scratch, and I'm just glad I managed to make it on time. I'll post photos etc. tomorrow. Goodnight all!
Dear Patternmakers,
You manage to design gorgeous things, and then design the patternsheets to be equally lovely!
There is a shop down my street that I always peek through the blinds at- they design and cut patterns. The women that work there come into my work, and they're so kind. They're the ones that come in with the payment for their bills already organised into the envalopes, and correct change for everything, they're neat and organised and really sweet.
This dress would be pieced along the dotted lines, and then stitched over the seam.
All my love,
IP.
You actually weren't that busty. Really... I did an assignment on Gender recently, in the artwork of an artist who photographs himself in the guise of other famous photographs, or paintings- he's really interesting, but after having seen his version of a photo of you, the original was surprisingly meek-chested (NB: both contain nudity). Anyhow, what with reading how to lose friends and alienate people I was thinking about old hollywood and the pictures my boyfriend has in his room- Marlon Brando, Audrey Hepburn, Sofia Loren, and dear ol' Marylin. and therefore: a dress for the busty. (even if she wasn't really.) Dress in black and white cotton, with a big bow at the back of the 'belt' section.
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
I've never actually been to an Ikea store- as much as I lust after the catalogues, I'm never sure my bank balance could take it. I've bought a few things second hand to realise they were Ikea, among them the FÄRM vase...
I've always loved the lines on this, and i'd love to replicate them in a dress- generous pleats in heavy linen.
I'm thinking of re-doing the signature, it's too big and clunky, so look out for something new- same design, but smaller and sleeker
(Also: apologies for posting a day late: 3,000 word essay meant the dress was designed, but not inked or coloured.)
A student of theatre with an enduring love of design embarks on her first 365-day-project, designing a dress every day from March 1st 2010- Feb 28th 2011
Dearest Rostand,
