Uncovering hidden codes embedded within the cloth. If you look for the South Asian Queer, they are there, right under the surface, breaking the the pattern of uniformity.. smattering red across the canvas, your threads tumbling, tangling against the conforming pattern... Speeding and searing across the cloth.
The leather work I've been stitching. Fabric for the collar of a jacket to be worn at the Transition Brixton Fashion show. Referencing the cell division and the transition that occurs during mitosis :
mitosis |mīˈtōsəs|noun ( pl. -ses |-sēz|) Biologya type of cell division that results in two daughter cells each having the same number and kind of chromosomes as the parent nucleus, typical of ordinary tissue growth.
DERIVATIVES mitotic |mīˈtätik|adjective
ORIGIN late 19th cent.: modern Latin, from Greek mitos ‘thread.’
I am particularly fascinated by the idea of the make up of genetic information carried in each and every cell, and how this concept could be translated into textiles quite literally, by creating a skin like fabric, resembling the cell division only visible under a microscope. What we choose to wear on our bodies, is usually intrinsic to our identities; be that cultural, social, or informed by our environment. Our biological identity is something we can't alter, or dress or paint, and it is the foundation of all of us, just one cell, multiplying and growing, each dividing, and carrying all the necessary information to be passed on to the next cell dividing itself. I wanted to create a fabric that could be interpreted as wearing our biology on the sleeve, to break down the beauty under the surface.
This is the main image I'm working from. To make sure the undertones stay a little on the edge, I'm going to work with leather, and avoid silks and chiffons, maybe perhaps combining them together in the end? I've discounted printing on to leather, and have been experimenting with creating lace structures/patterns directly on to the leather fabric. Free style embroidery, and leather cutting work.
Your skin, is your first defence to the outside world and it's the first contact with the outside world, with its touch sensors and pain receptors, everything you experience externally, it is sensed first through your skin...it's tough, it protects you, it regulates your temperature, it's adapted to shield you from harmful UV rays, and it's also the largest organ in your body. It renews itself continually, constantly multiplying, dividing, growing, and replacing.
Human cells, The constant transition between the growth, renewal, division and death of the cell..... our skin cells, regenerating, the old shedding, the new replacing. Each cell containing the information of our identity and history.
I would like to use skin as a visual metaphor for the armour we need in our daily lives, the psychological armour, armour that isn't just "skin deep", the armour we build around ourselves to protect our internal vulnerabilities, the armour we use to prepare ourselves mentally for the outside world. Society seems fractured as ever. The more connected we are virtually and electronically, we lose sight of real human contact and relationships and how to reach out to other human beings. In order to integrate as a larger community, barriers need to be broken down. The armour needs to be taken off
Looking at cell structures, and patterns and potential textures will be the basis of my textile, the theme of transitioning cells growing and multiplying - perhaps in a cancerous way - to be worn around the body, symbolising the extra layers of "thick" skin, providing you the armour needed to survive the suburban jungles of London and the hellish roller coaster it can be.
Experimentation with bulbous surfaces, structural knits, bonded fabrics, and stitched methods of connecting pieces.
I want to use a colour spectrum of either natural skin colours, or delving deep into the zoomed in views under a microscope.