“What is the essence of a pair of pants (if it has such a thing)? Certainly not that crisp and well-pressed object to be found on department-store racks; rather, that clump of fabric on the floor, negligently dropped there when the boy stepped out of them, careless, lazy, indifferent. The essence of an object has some relation with its destruction: not necessarily what remains after it has been used up, but what is thrown away as being of no use.”
Designer Melanie Burk of Fifth & Hazel makes a habit of this with her Instagram series, Unexpected Type. During their morning art project, she and her daughter Maggie spell out words with everyday objects – a compilation of typographic photographs, each one more inspired than the last.
London-based jewelry designer Hollie Paxton explores these themes in her collection Rubbish Jewelry, which seeks to discover the relationship between our identity and our objects. “The collection inverts the idea of what can be precious, as the objects I have chosen to recreate, once used, are disposable and almost worthless,” she writes. “Through recreating them in precious materials, using labour intensive processes such as enamelling, it interests me as to how our relationship with the object changes, possibly for some, to the point where one would consider wearing ‘rubbish.'”
Martha Stewart has held my proverbial hand through every major transition of my life. As an evergreen newlywed who frequently relied on take-out and dry cereal, it was a borrowed copy of Cooking School that taught me the beauty of a homemade meal. When I launched my own website, brand and business, I furiously highlighted
British designer Sarah Reader’s swimwear brand Project 104 explores this relationship between our body and choices in its debut collection, “My Body, My Shrine.” Limited edition swimsuits depicting addictive lifestyles are displayed in the midst of artifacts associated with each, from candy-coated gluttony to poker-chipped greed. And the suits are lovely, yes. But the challenge is even more so.
“The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are,” he says. “You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. There can’t be any large-scale revolution until there’s a personal revolution, on an individual level. It’s got to happen inside first.”
By far, the biggest surprise for me when it comes to dressing Bee has been just how difficult it is to find basics. Solid colors, neutral shapes, classic combos – it’s a seemingly uphill battle, and I’ve certainly been known to cut off a few extra lacy bows here and there. So I was thrilled
The Andrew Freedman Home had a short-lived life and was abandoned in the 70’s where large portions of the house laid vacant. Until 2012, when NYC-based public art exhibition curators No Longer Empty sent in a team of talented artists to transform the lot into a commissioned installation. And for Brooklyn-based artist Adam Parker Smith, he used the opportunity to explore our feelings about wealth and masks and The Jones’ with which we keep.