Wearable Art

'You'll always find people who say art is only on canvas,' says Mitch Philips, textile designer, 'however I would say that fashion is in fact one of the most beautiful and inclusive art forms out there'

We are sitting in the square on a gloriously sunny day in Carcassonne and watching the skirts and dresses float by and Mitch is showing me photos of a kimono she has designed and made.

She has given me a sample of the material; finest silk, dip-dyed and scrunch-dryed in a wide array of pinks and oranges, with a beautiful gold and red leaf pattern. 'I used real chestnut leaves to make the template,' she says, describing the process of screen printing used to make the kimono.

She then points to the arms, off which there dangle red strands of silken thread sparkling with pearl drop beads. 'They're tears,' she explains. 'I wanted to create a piece of clothing which told the story of Madame Butterfly. The delicacy of the fabric represents the heroine and the tear drops on the arms show her heartbreak.'

Looking more closely at the kimono I see that the arms of the robe hang off the model like butterfly wings. It is only the heaviness of the beads, her tears, which are stopping her taking flight, Suddenly the emotional impact of the kimono hits me and I am amazed by the garment's pathos and tragedy.

People dismiss fashion so easily as a pretty fluffy frivolity, yet like great literature, great music, great paintings and sculptures, fashion can tell stories, can express emotion, can have depths not at once apparent. As in a piece of music, the silk of the kimono becomes the soft lilting background melody while the leaf pattern is a leitmotif. At parts the motif is busy, many leaves overlap noisily and chaotically in shimmering gold and blood red, while in other parts the pattern is barely there and the gorgeous material is all that is visible, catching the light in the same way as a clear lake reflecting the trees in autumn.

'Wearable art is amazing,' continues Mitch, 'as it allows people not only to see art but also to become it.' I instantly understand what she means. As a young teenager I used to wander round galleries and flick through art books longing not only to see but also to become the art. I wanted to be Boticelli's Venus swathed in golden hair, Dali's Leda seduced by the swan or Bernini's Daphne throwing back her pale marble neck as she sprouted leaves from her fingers and roots from her toes.

When I studied Ovid's Metamorphoses at school I was fascinated by the transformations the characters underwent and wished that I too was able to morph into different shapes, to sprout wings and fly too close to the sun like Icarus or to become a glitteringly tragic constellation like the nymph Calisto. Somehow these magical transformations seemed to make the pain experienced by the characters worthwhile, desirable even. Talking to Mitch I realise that wearable art makes these adolescent fantasies realisable.

When I get home I type 'Wearable art' into Google and find the site of designer, Claire Prebble, whose wearable art work, Perelandra, is strikingly reminiscent of Daphne's metamorphosis. The model wears a skirt like the roots of a tree falling from the top of her legs to the ground, on one of her shoulders perches a large pink dragon fly and her head dress is elaborately crafted in the shape of branches and tiny leaves. The entire design is made of recycled copper, glass beads and tissue paper, and the result is magnificent. It is one of the most incredible sculptures I have ever seen and it is even more fantastic because at the centre of it stands a living woman.

Another work by Claire Prebble is entitled, Hot With Gossip, a sizzling pink creation of recycled clothing and curtains, decorated with fine beads and accesorised with an elaborate black fan. The vivacity of the costume perfectly captures the bubbly sense of excitement which comes with youth while the fan shows the yearning for adult sophistication felt by the artist who models the outfit. Remarkably Prebble created this costume when only eleven years old.

Yet even more amazingly, Prebble's first creation Peach Blossom was made out of handed down fabrics and clothes given by friends when the artist was only nine. On Prebble's website the artist says that her inspiration for the piece was, 'being a nine year old girl with a love of dressing up.' Thankfully Prebble's love of dressing up has never died, it has only become more complex, intricate and sophisticated. Her art is a way of realising childhood fantasies of remarkable transformations, of making Ovid's Metamorphoses come true.

Thanks to The World of Wearable Art, New Zealand, for permission to use the image of Claire Prebble's creation.

World of Wearable Art
Claire Prebble