Stuff and thoughts on "Perfection"
Aha, here's a Sian Hoffmann piece! That's the other place I knew her name from delirium71, I'm sure she did the corset/girdle that Morgana posted on corsetry a couple of months back. Similar to this, but in black.
So, I'm having an organising/computer/sketching day today. I was up late last night sketching out new ideas and refining existing ones. Damn the V&A and Museum of London, putting ideas in our heads! This is all towards a portfolio shoot early next year. The great thing about being organised and already having the models, etc. lined up is that I can really take them as inspiration for the work. I love "bespoke" rather than "fashion" (if such a distinction can be made) and don't imagine my pieces in isolation or on anonymous "clothes horses". So I'm working on designs that are dreamed up around the models. They get to be muses for the corsets, which is quite exciting.
Also, as I've been chatting privately about this, I'm repeating some thoughts on "perfection".
Even a true luxury product, I am realising, is not perfect. "Perfection" here would suppose that there is even one perfect way of making a corset, whilst we know that there are dozens of ways. One perfect design, one perfect thread, one perfect fabric. The One Vision of corsetry (mmm, blond drummers...)... the Highlander of all corsets! "Perfection", if any of us attained it, would be bland and anonymous. The great corsetieres we admire would produce work that was indistinguishable from one another, work that we wouldn't fall in love with. I prefer to think of many types of perfection (numerous contingent truths rather than one absolute... yes, this harks back to my days reading Deleuze...). If we re-define perfection as the unique distillation of each maker's work (something that I imagine one wouldn't really attain until after a lifetime of work, but would be tantalisingly foreshadowed every so often), it becomes a much more interesting prospect. Perhaps, instead of trying to be "perfect", we should try to be "artistic" or to make "luxurious" pieces? Or forget that entirely, just try to be the ultimate expression of your self at any given time. Forget what everyone else is doing, and do what you are compelled to do. For my part, I used to endlessly worry about being in any way similar to other companies' work as the internet pushes us all up against one another in an unnatural way... and so numerous designs would never see the light of day. But I'm starting to worry less now. If you follow your interests to their natural conclusion, any similarities will fade as you find your own feet. It's a "work in progress", after all. We should aim to be the best that we can be, not the best that someone else can be, and there are plenty of opportunities... As a contemporary movement "new corsetry" has barely scratched the surface of what's possible. If your character is honest rather than Machiavellian, you'll be fine.
The quirks and oddities of each individual corsetmaker is what makes their work special. An extract from a book I'm currently reading:
The luxury product is not a perfect product, but an affecting product.
There is often a contradiction between the functional aspect of the product and what makes it luxury: think of the discomfort, noise and the wasted potential speed of a Ferrari, or the extreme difficulty of maintaining certain luxury fabrics. These practical faults are in fact qualities in the eyes of their true clients [...] and is an integral part of the dream ("you have to suffer for beauty").
Forget an anonymous idea of perfection, we buy into the idea of the artist... the hands that made the work, the spirit that is echoed in every stitch... the recurring aesthetics, techniques or fabrication that the individual maker loves... When I walk past a beautiful building, I think of the hands of the workers that built it, the eye of the architect who designed it. If I ordered a corset from Wilde Hunt, it would be to own a piece of her approach to colour and texture. If I ordered from Electra Designs, it would be because of the instantly recognisable smoothness of her work. If I ordered a couture gown from Chanel, it would be with visions of seamstresses in the attic and decades of an aesthetic tradition. The list goes on. Look closely at the craft or art that you love, it carries something of the maker's soul. The people who make the most interesting work do so with passion, dedication and bravery, and I think this is an important lesson for all of us... whether hobbyist, part-time, full-time, new, established, goth, couture, whatever.
These things of course only come with time, and the onus is on each of us to explore the ideas we love without hesitancy or fear. Don't hold yourself back. There are enough people who will try to do that for you. Ha, now I just need to take my own advice!
And thus ends the cheesy rhetoric for today ;-)
[This post is brought to you courtesy of the enthusiasm, bravery, and encouragement of the wonderful women I met on the FR study trip. You are all amazing!]
So, I'm having an organising/computer/sketching day today. I was up late last night sketching out new ideas and refining existing ones. Damn the V&A and Museum of London, putting ideas in our heads! This is all towards a portfolio shoot early next year. The great thing about being organised and already having the models, etc. lined up is that I can really take them as inspiration for the work. I love "bespoke" rather than "fashion" (if such a distinction can be made) and don't imagine my pieces in isolation or on anonymous "clothes horses". So I'm working on designs that are dreamed up around the models. They get to be muses for the corsets, which is quite exciting.
Also, as I've been chatting privately about this, I'm repeating some thoughts on "perfection".
Even a true luxury product, I am realising, is not perfect. "Perfection" here would suppose that there is even one perfect way of making a corset, whilst we know that there are dozens of ways. One perfect design, one perfect thread, one perfect fabric. The One Vision of corsetry (mmm, blond drummers...)... the Highlander of all corsets! "Perfection", if any of us attained it, would be bland and anonymous. The great corsetieres we admire would produce work that was indistinguishable from one another, work that we wouldn't fall in love with. I prefer to think of many types of perfection (numerous contingent truths rather than one absolute... yes, this harks back to my days reading Deleuze...). If we re-define perfection as the unique distillation of each maker's work (something that I imagine one wouldn't really attain until after a lifetime of work, but would be tantalisingly foreshadowed every so often), it becomes a much more interesting prospect. Perhaps, instead of trying to be "perfect", we should try to be "artistic" or to make "luxurious" pieces? Or forget that entirely, just try to be the ultimate expression of your self at any given time. Forget what everyone else is doing, and do what you are compelled to do. For my part, I used to endlessly worry about being in any way similar to other companies' work as the internet pushes us all up against one another in an unnatural way... and so numerous designs would never see the light of day. But I'm starting to worry less now. If you follow your interests to their natural conclusion, any similarities will fade as you find your own feet. It's a "work in progress", after all. We should aim to be the best that we can be, not the best that someone else can be, and there are plenty of opportunities... As a contemporary movement "new corsetry" has barely scratched the surface of what's possible. If your character is honest rather than Machiavellian, you'll be fine.
The quirks and oddities of each individual corsetmaker is what makes their work special. An extract from a book I'm currently reading:
The luxury product is not a perfect product, but an affecting product.
There is often a contradiction between the functional aspect of the product and what makes it luxury: think of the discomfort, noise and the wasted potential speed of a Ferrari, or the extreme difficulty of maintaining certain luxury fabrics. These practical faults are in fact qualities in the eyes of their true clients [...] and is an integral part of the dream ("you have to suffer for beauty").
Forget an anonymous idea of perfection, we buy into the idea of the artist... the hands that made the work, the spirit that is echoed in every stitch... the recurring aesthetics, techniques or fabrication that the individual maker loves... When I walk past a beautiful building, I think of the hands of the workers that built it, the eye of the architect who designed it. If I ordered a corset from Wilde Hunt, it would be to own a piece of her approach to colour and texture. If I ordered from Electra Designs, it would be because of the instantly recognisable smoothness of her work. If I ordered a couture gown from Chanel, it would be with visions of seamstresses in the attic and decades of an aesthetic tradition. The list goes on. Look closely at the craft or art that you love, it carries something of the maker's soul. The people who make the most interesting work do so with passion, dedication and bravery, and I think this is an important lesson for all of us... whether hobbyist, part-time, full-time, new, established, goth, couture, whatever.
These things of course only come with time, and the onus is on each of us to explore the ideas we love without hesitancy or fear. Don't hold yourself back. There are enough people who will try to do that for you. Ha, now I just need to take my own advice!
And thus ends the cheesy rhetoric for today ;-)
[This post is brought to you courtesy of the enthusiasm, bravery, and encouragement of the wonderful women I met on the FR study trip. You are all amazing!]