Clothing is the unspoken
assertion of our identity — what we wear reveals
clues about our age, income, education, home town, profession,
confidence, even
our interests. Fashion icons like the three-piece suit and the little
black
dress signify power or sophistication, and any T-shirt with a logo
telegraphs
our preference for a band, a store, a bar, a school. How would the
world know
we were design-school hipsters, urban cowboys, or soccer moms if it
weren’t for
what we pull out of our closets every morning?
Three pieces in a new exhibit
at the Southwest School of Art & Craft turn this sense of
clothing as a
self-controlled identity statement inside out. Kent State University
fashion
faculty Noel Palomo-Lovinski and Christine LaPerna exhibited three
dresses as
part of the International Textile and Apparel Association’s
2006 Design Exhibition, now on display at the School’s
Navarro Campus. By
using fabric printed with text from confessional web sites (like
Dailyconfession.com or Postsecret.com) and cut to create spatial
vulnerability,
their clothing works in an opposite way, revealing our deepest secrets
—
that which we would most like to conceal.
“Levels of Confession,” a
layered tunic that stops at the knee but otherwise covers every surface
of the
model’s body, including her head, focuses on the intensity of
the confession in
relation to how easily it is revealed. Relatively benign secrets, the
type not
likely to produce consequences, are printed on the outer white layer. A
circle
is cut in the tunic’s center to reveal darker underlayers of
textile and
deeper, more serious confessions of sexuality, betrayal, and violence.
The
outfit’s hangman-like hood, tall starched collar, and tight
gloves heighten the
sense of claustrophobia.
Part burqua, part go-go dress,
“Camouflaged Confessions” uses similar text,
reinterpreted in a pattern
mimicking military camouflage. A tight headpiece has an eye opening
reminiscent
of a surveillance mask, but the sleeveless armholes are cut open to the
hip, to
express a frail helplessness and subjection that’s not
remotely sexy.
“Bridezilla” comments
scathingly on the phenomenon of the same name. This time text is taken
specifically from online confessionals for brides (sample quote:
“I want to
sleep with the best man before the wedding.”). White Duchess
satin imprinted
with sunny hot pink letters, the frothy, insipid wedding gown is
inspired by
the fairytale union of our generation: Charles and Di’s.
Unlike the two
previous “Confessions,” “Bridezilla is an
assault of fabric. From the full ball
skirt with train and tulle underskirt to the exaggerated puffed sleeves
and the
dozens of rosettes trimming every seam, the piece conveys the sense of
unbearable pressure likely felt by these brides.
Curated by J. R. Campbell of
the Glasgow School of Art, the exhibition collection ranges from modern
interpretations of historic costume techniques to designs using
sustainable
materials worthy of a Project Runway challenge. The mixed bag includes
the
occasional disappointment, but the wide variety means that unapologetic
couture
construction co-exists happily with fiber optic spacesuits. The show
runs
through December 2; hours and visiting info can be found at
Swschool.org or by
calling 271-3374.