Coming at fashion sideways: 1) The Sighing Sound of Lips Unsatisfied

I'm not able to approach fashion head-on, not really. Looking at fashion straight on is contextless and boring. But fashion seeps into so many other things. It permeates our lives, our culture and our histories. For me, this is when it becomes rich and fertile and full of meaning. When I can come at it sideways, through art or sociology or history, fashion is irresistible to me.

Here are a few ways I looked askance at fashion this week:

1. Dresses with Whimsical Names



"Happiness" Dinner Dress
Made in New York, New York, United States c. 1915
Designed by Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon. Label Lucile Ltd., New York.

Occasionally, someone on the Ravelry forums will complain about the fanciful, seemingly unrelated names that handknitting designers give their patterns. I was sort of delighted to find out that this practice predated Modcloth.com and Ravelry by at least 100 years.

Lucile Sutherland (1863-1935) was an early English designer, who made romantic, colorful dresses. Initially, she customized each gown to reflect the personality of the customer, but as her business grew, she replaced this practice by giving each dress a memorable name, like "Farewell Summer" or "The Moment". One was called "The Sighing Sound of Lips Unsatisfied."

Lucile wrote a memoir published in 1932 that I'd like to track down. It was titled Discretions & Indiscretions.

via the FIDM Museum Blog


2. Draw This Dress

I love fashion and I love illustration so I was very pleased to stumble upon drawthisdress.tumblr.com. Comic book artists Emily Carroll and Vera Brosgol draw historic dresses in their own style and the results look like the best cartoon you've never seen, full of history, humour, great clothes and character. I have a feeling that most people would call these illustrations "cartoons" rather than "fashion illustration" because the dresses appear to be secondary to something else -- the narrative moment or the sense of character. Whatever they are, I love them. (Also, do yourself a favour and look at the portfolios on Brosgol and Carroll's websites).

Original photo:



Vera Brosgol's illustration:




3. Long Weekend Reading



I checked out Clothes, by John Harvey, from the Vancouver Public Library, and am hoping to read it this weekend. This slim book is part of the "Art of Living" series, which uses philosophy to explore the modern age. It was reviewed well in the most recent issue of WORN Fashion Journal. I've been a bit afraid to take on Barthes and all the really hardcore philosophical treatments of fashion, so hopefully this will be good first step.

Tyranny of Thrift (or, how to become a hoarder)

So I found this half-finished rabbit doll in a plastic bag in my closet, tucked in with with some felted sweaters that I never made into anything. The rabbit is made out of a felted sweater that used to belong to my sister. It's all handsewn, which means that it either predates my first sewing machine (a tiny blue Kenmore) or that I couldn't get the tiny blue Kenmore to sew tight corners on thick, fluffy, disintegrating fabric. It could well be the last thing I sewed entirely by hand.



I'm pretty sure I started making this when a co-worker at my old job got pregnant. Her child is now three. It's made from a template in Aranzi Aronzo's Cute Book, which I love. (I made a few things from Cute Book and Cute Dolls, and started many more! If I keep looking in the closet I might find more half-made cute animals).


Everything about the Cute Book is cute.


This faceless, naked rabbit dummy been kicking around my closet for years now. I'm caught between keeping it and throwing it out. (And before you ask -- no, I'm not going to give it to the intended recipient. I don't think she'd want it, and gifts should be given because you think the person would enjoy the item, not because you can't bring yourself to throw the gift in the trash).

Curt suggested that I donate the half-finished rabbit to a thrift store "because some child born without eyes or a mouth might enjoy playing with it." I believe that this means that Curt found the naked rabbit a little creepy in its current state, and felt that I shouldn't donate it. I agree. Who wants to thrift an unfinished toy?

Reasons to keep it:

• It's so close to being done. All it needs is a cute little face and a felt jacket and it would actually be pretty cute. I worry that by throwing it out I'm negating my own hard work


• It seems wasteful. What if I need a rabbit doll one day and I have to do all this work over again?


• Throwing away a toy feels a bit like murder to me. Probably because I absorbed too much of that of genre children's entertainment where toys come alive at night (see Corduroy, The Velveteen Rabbit, Calvin and Hobbes, Toy Story, etc).


• I've kind of lost touch with this person, and throwing out a half-finished gift feels I'm throwing out our friendship. This is hoarder logic. Throwing out the rabbit will have no impact on our relationship (if I was so worried about it, I would just call her, right?) But some part of me worries that it "looks bad", though I can't say who's looking (God? My conscience? Now that I've blogged it, the Internet?)

Reasons to throw it out

• I don't want to finish it.


• I don't really have time to work on projects I don't want to do.


• I hate embroidering faces on to stuffed animals.


• I have no need for a rabbit doll (and, as stated above, I'm not going to give it to my old co-worker).

What do you guys think? Should I throw it out or just return it to the closet for another year?