Over a week ago, Mikey and I were asked by
Adapta Project--who put on the art show,
Dress Me In Paint at Thread--to combine our talents and tastes, and this was the final product:


Pff, good job
Mikey. The design was his idea, and he made the backdrop, and the hat, which was some sort of ventilation device he got at The Home Depot, and was square in shape. He cut it and painted the arrow on (nice touch), and the trim around the brim, while I was sewing and
resewing metal arrows on the skirt because the thread kept breaking, as it was rubbing against the metal.




Unfortunately, given this thing's size, and our lack of storage space, as well as the currently sagging hem, and busting threads desperately holding on to the arrows, it is doomed. The only thing I am salvaging is the petticoat, which I will eventually use for something else. Even if someone did want this for their own display, I couldn't let them have something that would gradually fall apart. Thus, she will only live in these few pictures.
The Thread Show was just ok. It's not really my style: I don't like current trends, so it is hard for me to judge the apparel there without being totally biased; there was a lot of jewelry there that looked like good quality, but I don't like jewelry (except a string of pearls paired with the right outfit); and there were plenty of t-shirts, but I don't wear t-shirts.
Even though I design and make clothes, I don't feel like I am a part of the "fashion world." And I am by no means a "fashionista" (partly because I hate that term). The fashionista there was swinging her hips, and bobbing her head to the runway music, while I wanted to slit my wrists on the corrugated backdrop Mikey built and let the blood pump out with the soulless beat blaring forth from the runway, and put an end to that music pounding at my ears.
Also, the word "thread" seems like a very loose idea for the event. While I was watching the fashion show, I happened to glance to my left, and I saw this lady whose lips were pealed back up to her gums and whose face was bathed in a bright blue light that was blasting coffee and cigarette stains away from her teeth. You know, just out in the open for everyone to see (trust me it wasn't a pretty sight). Didn't bother her at all though, she just leaned back and wiggled her dirty toes to that terrible music. Weird. "I went to Thread and got my teeth whitened." It just doesn't make any sense.
Nothing there resembled Mikey's and my piece, and since my tastes don't stray to far beyond the aesthetic of our instillation, nothing there really interested me. So aside from hating the music I was subjected to, I am afraid I have to remain opinionless about this one.