The Garage is like the Holodeck. It takes you through space and time.
This time Emily and I landed in the late 80's, possibly early 90's. Patterned harem pants, Navajo prints, and lots of leopard. Leopard on leopard even.
This leopard print dress not only comes with a matching chain belt but a fabric scarf-belt! The baggy obasan (Japanese for old lady, but it's also what we call them in Taiwan) dresses were definitely my grandmother's. I can tell because the labels are in Italian or in Christian Dior. I get excited when I find her stuff because expensive things are usually much crazier in design than my mom's Casual Corner duds. And who doesn't like fancy vintage?
Emily was a portrait of a lady standing next to the bougainvilleas, in this Limited Express jersey dress. Looking at this reminds me that the side yard needs desperate watering, though I suppose it's more Grey Gardens this way! In southern California it's a crime to either water your lawn or neglect it. A ugly yard brings down real estate values, but why water in a desert?
Batwing florals! If I lived in Williamsburg this sort of thing I'd sell on Bedford to newly minted hip kids. It's a pity they can't drive to the 'burbs. I'm going to sell to them through Etsy soon if I can solve my product lighting issues.
I'm also looking for a dress form if anyone in the LA area wants to sell me theirs!
There has to be something with the Chinese and hoarding.
I've come across a few works by Chinese artists that handle the meaning of personal objects. Last year at MOMA artist Song Dong installed "Waste Not," an epic collection of his mother's things from her packed Beijing apartment. She was a hoarder, keeping odd items like empty plastic bottles, squeezed out toothpaste tubes, and old shoes, knowing that one day they would come in handy again. She was right. With his mother's help, Dong installed her belongings in a collection. For Dong and other children of hoarders, the trail of objects reads like family history.
In an interview, Dong shows off some beat up shoes he was made fun of for wearing in school. But when asked why he still has it, he states that "it's [just] not shoes, it's love". The stuff loves you back.
I bought Dong's Waste Not book when I was visiting the 798 Arts District in Beijing this year but am afraid I've lost it.
So I'm setting up an interweb shop soon and thought I could construct a lightbox from stuff in the Garage. While I had a perfect sized box, the instructions called for tracing paper. I was bummed that I had recently tossed a roll of vellum that I had kept for the past decade after a misguided attempt as a design major in college. Anyway, the lesson learned today is never throw anything away...which goes against my whole mission statement.