some thoughts on poetry & fashion

i haven't always considered myself a fashion maven. ok, i still really don't consider myself a fashion maven, but a lot of people tend to comment on my "style" -- my eye for garments, how to put them together, how they look on the body, the fantasies and ideas they create in the wearer and the viewer, how these ideas create a relationship.

well ok, nobody mentions the last couple of afore mentioned things. that doesn't mean they're not happening for me. if someone is watching me, i am watching them. i am watching them watch me. i am thinking about their gaze.

i love the stealth factor of fashion. what i bring to an outfit is part social experiment, part internal observation, and part cultural critique.

in the mix: identity, sexuality, history, confrontation, legacy, feminism, politic (mine and yours), class, memory, the image, objectivity, subjectivity, poetry, power.

especially poetry, especially power.

i am perverse. i love that i can control another's perception and gaze through the simple ritual act of "getting dressed." for me, clothing is so many things, the least of which is a costume. what lies beneath?

i suspect many people might say: not much.

this derives from the cultural and artistic biases both against and for fashion. this is really a GENDER bias, but that is neither here nor there. it's pointless to discuss the point with anyone who assumes they are smarter or more evolved than me. and most people do, because i embrace and express my love of fashion and the garment.

what i really wish to do is talk a little poetry.

when i was in my early 20s, i got the opportunity to design and create costumes for several theatre productions. this allowed me to combine my love of the garment with my love of story. it was sublime.

understanding clothing means understanding character. this is something i wish more people understood. the garment communicates character through time (i.e. plot). always.

poetry enters story when it creates that musical, wonderful, heart-breaking resonance within us, within something within us.

it's an integrity of yes.

it is a ghost unseen.

we only know of its presense by the signal clues in our environment. and its resistance of logical proof is what makes it so, so beautiful.

and then we want to explain the beauty -- why it happened to us, what made us deserving, what makes the jumping off point of inspiration sacrosanct.

and so on.

poetry is the only "thing" that can be anywhere, at any time, in anything, in anyone.

it is Lorca's duende, it is punk fucking rock.

we can do this with garments. we don't have to; we certainly don't need to. we can put the garment on for the simple fact that it gives us pleasure to do so. we can put it on because it's easy . . . or because it's clean. however, should we choose to add a little poetry, we can.

when i write poetry, i often enter my poems through the image of a character in the poem. usually, this involves garments. when i dress, i enter the character and tone of the day.

my grandmother gave me a pair of her driving gloves, and a piece of lace. i create chrysanthemum-yellow shapes with Indian skirts when i dance. my grandfather was buried in his favorite gray suit. the fine ladies of Rome cry melting tears when Valentino retires.

one day, i shall write a book of outfits. one day, i shall wear a poem. none of it will be genius. i don't care about that. which is why it just might be genius. but probably not.