Presenting Repurposed

I've been bad this year: I missed sending my little cousin both a Christmas and a birthday present. I feel awful, but, on the bright side, present-buying (however belated) is the greatest excuse to shop.

So I decided, in the spirit of my new explorations, that I'd dedicate myself to getting her something sustainably designed. Within the realm of sustainable design I have a particular predilection towards things repurposed, as one might assume given my handbag undertakings. The idea of designing with repurposed materials is fascinating to me for how each new object reflects a obscured history of intentions and needs, while simultaneously presenting a new intention, responding to a new need.

Also, the materials at hand in any repurposed work provide the designer with a complex set of limitations. In many ways, I like limitations. I believe they push one off one's own beaten mental-track, to bushwack through parts of the creative mind that would otherwise go unexplored, making uniquely fresh connections (between genres or aesthetics) that might otherwise not be made. This phenomenon is visible in quite an exaggerated (and lovely) way in the work of repurposed design collectives like "Andrea Crews." (I had a very difficult time choosing sample photos of their work—just take a look at all of it at andreacrews.com.)

The categories at the foot of their homepage (namely: "fashion," "art" and "activism") relfect a leaning towards the visual arts within the realm of design, and its applications both to the human body and to a sense of community. Listed as "Performance Art" on their homepage, Andrea Crews' "Gardensculpture" (see left) presented at the Barat foundation in Provence is a complex intersection of fashion photography and installation/performance art—an instance of discipline-blurring bushwacking in the relatively unexplored territory of repurposed apparel design. Alternatively, "Nothing is New" is listed under "Fashion Shows," and it too resists categories: a runway show meets improv game of musical chairs involving violent chair removal and an tenuous separation between models and spectators, which they simply call "Collection mixte." (The best way to get a sense of just how "distinct" a take this show was on your run-of-the-mill catwalk is to check out the full photo-documentation by Otto Muelhettaler on the AC site.)












I am tempted to delve into how the blurry lines between genres, disciplines, aesthetics and modes of presentation are intrinsically tied to the repurposed nature (and therefore the multitudinous pasts, functions, and aesthetic ideals) of the clothing-making materials, but the more I ramble on in theoretical terms about repurposed design, the further I get from solving the problem of being a bad cousin.

What does solve my problem? Anna Vintage Jewelry.

I first saw Anna Korte's jewelry about a month ago at the glorified crafts-fair-cum-block-party that is 'Last Thursday' in the Alberta Arts District. Amidst the distractions of frolicking clowns and tap-dancing musicians, Korte's booth was one of the few that made me stop and take a closer look.

Korte (Portland-based since 2005) works with vintage pieces collected from thrift stores to handcraft one-of-a-kind pieces that are quirky yet refined and ageless. That is to say that I'm sure both my step-mother and I would ahhh over the fine craftsmanship, and yet I can also imagine the heart pendant necklace, for example (see photo), as an appropriate present for my teenage cousin that, while making her devastatingly cool, wouldn't call too much attention to herself (which I recall as having been quite important back then).

Anna's jewelry, sold nationally, is available locally at four stores here in Portland, as well as on Etsy. (If you don't know about Etsy, you don't know know what you're missing. Even those who, like myself, are uncomfortable with online shopping will find that it functions fantastically as an extensive directory of independent designers.) The heart pendant necklace I'm eyeing for my cousin is on sale(!) online, but I have this thing where I need to see pieces in person, so I'm going to have to sit on this with fingers crossed that no on will snatch it out from under me until First Thursday in the Pearl rolls around, where Anna will be offering the goods not available in stores.


This is not to say that I don't have object-lust for what's in stores at the moment. I perused in person the pieces available at seaplane (a local-designer-focused fancy-schmansy hand-crafty boutique about which I'm sure to write more), which are fabulous (ahem tripartite whistle pendant piece pictured here) and are priced accordingly (though this is not to say prohibitively). There aren't yet any photographs of the new pieces on her website (iheartanna.com), so I've posted a couple below just to give a fuller sense of the new collection's feel.

I'm sorry I have rambled on for so long. I get excited about repurposed design. I'll try to keep myself in check next time.

Even Gertrude Stein

liked sustainable design.

"To linger in the pale way and not to show spots to be greener to do this means that all the references are what they are."

(from 'France' in 'Geography and Plays' (1922))

Blatant Self-Promotion: Hi Mom!

I swore I wasn’t going to do this. I finally finished a full photo shoot of the first nine of a line of sustainably-designed hand-bags I’ve been working on, and I’ve posted the results below. My reasons are as follows:

1. I am still learning blogs—tone, color choice, and posting photos, just to name a few elements. Wrangling these nine oversized files (taken on a 7-plus mp camera) is a valuable learning experience.

2. My adventures in the world of sustainable design will undoubtedly be informed to some extent my own forays into design, however untrained. I should be up front about that, and putting myself (and my 'positionality') out there in this undertaking is part and parcel of that project, however resistant to it I may be. I will likely use this medium to chronicle my own challenges as a fledgling designer and design student with ethical awarenesses and sustainable goals.

3. Last, but not at all least (more precisely, the real precipitating reason behind my decision to post the photos): my mother is challenged in the realm of opening email attachments. So everyone besides my mom can stop reading now; in fact, don’t even scroll down and look at the photos. (Hi Mom! So, here’s what I’ve been working on. All the bags are made out of second-hand housewares: tablecloths, pillowcases, remnant upholstery fabric, curtains. The notions are remnants too, as are the sewing materials, whenever possible. Enjoy!)

The New Wear (Where)

I knew I’d forget something in introducing myself.

I’ve recently moved. To Portland, OR. The Portland environment is
largely the impetus for my acutely piqued interest in sustainable
fashion design of late, and there’s a wealth of material to cover on
this topic right here in this relatively small city. The focus of
these writings, therefore, will be largely local, but, I hope, more
widely applicable in terms of concepts.

Anyway, in this vein of newness, I got my hair cut and put on my prom
dress (I guess that’s about five years old, actually) to attend the Art
Institute of Portland’s runway show of senior work in apparel design
this past Sunday evening. Of the 25 senior collections, four were
focused on sustainable design: those of Ika Brown (“Across the Bridges
over the Waters”), Shakira Kamal (I’m unsure of the title of her collection, as well as how to spell of her name—her bio was not included in the program), Jennifer Tyler (“Organically Sown”) and Alex Crandall.

Of these four, Crandall’s collection, entitled ‘Miss March,” was
notably refreshing and embodied the way in which sustainable design
shouldn’t be limited to a single (i.e. 'earthy') aesthetic. You
certainly wouldn’t guess by looking at it that the collection made
exclusive use of all natural/organic fibers. I also like the
ingenuity and attention to detail in her commitment to green design:
all of the garments were designed to “have minimal fabric waste by
using full textile widths and incorporating scraps as decoration.”



I didn’t realize that Crandall is an intern for Anna Cohen (a Portland
designer of sustainable ‘Italian Street Couture’ whose work I’m pretty
head over heels for and about whom you’re sure to hear gobs more from
me; peruse annacohen.com in the meantime) until after I’d picked “Miss
March” as my personal green highlight. Crandall is continuing work
with Anna Cohen post-graduation, and I’m excited to see how Crandall’s
playfulness-- evident in the hoodies, exaggerated high-waists, and
amusingly abstracted takes on floral detail work in “Miss March”--might
inform Cohen’s refined and elegant sensibility.

Wearing Green Out: an Introduction

I become fixated on things, and the title of this thing was
certifiably a subject of fixation for me: the topic of not a few
frantic phone calls and rapid-fire emails back-and-forth between
myself and trusted creative advisors (i.e. artist friends). The
title "Mindful Finery" was a compromise, or, more precisely, the
product of a pretty basic realization.

I had planned to call this "How to Wear Green." A sort of
instructional-in-the-making for those interested in exploring the
world of sustainable fashion along with me. Something felt wrong,
though: I realized that I'm not quite sure what "green"—or, more
specifically, "green fashion"-- means.

According to Wikipedia (not the most reliable source, I know, but a fine place to start, I think), "green design" is "the art of designing
physical objects to comply with the principles of economic, social,
and ecological sustainability " and therefore "reduces use of
non-renewable resources , minimizes environmental impact, and relates
people with the natural environment." (On the whole, the Sustainable
Design entry, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_design, merits a
closer look.)

So, does a garment have to comply with all of these requirements to be
considered "green"? What do we call a garment that, with the best of
intentions, can only fulfill one of these criteria? What IS economic
sustainability, anyway? And in order to be a good person do I really
have to critically consider all of this every time I bring something
to the register? I'm not sure. I hope not. Or, at the very least, I
hope the musings and suggestions chronicled here can make it easier
for you.

I think maybe we're tired of hearing about green-ness because it's
something that is not very specific and is too all-encompassing and
therefore kind of stressful. The term "Green" induces in me a kind of
guilty panic: that a profound and imminently necessary
all-encompassing self reinvention is required of me. The guilt, in
turn, creates a kind of hostile indifference. And hostile
indifference is certainly not going to motivate me to change.

I'm not entirely opposed to the term "green"—I just don't know enough
about it yet. In the meanwhile, I like the idea of being "mindful"
instead. It implies a serious though stress-free kind of
consideration. There's no hellfire or brimstone in it, and it seems
more conducive to the constraints of being a real person. I like
mindful because there's not a lot of pressure with it, but certainly a
good amount of curiosity.

So, "Mindful Finery" it is. Here are some working definitions, which
are excerpts taken from the Oxford English Dictionary:

Mindful- Taking thought or care, heedful; being conscious or aware.
Finery- Smartness, stylishness, showy dress. Also, instances of fine
or delicate workmanship.

Also, I like "Mindful Finery" because when you Google it, some of the
related terms you get are 'Paris,' 'Christmas,' 'peacock,' 'death' and
'Crime and Punishment'. Sounds like interesting company.