When you drip some breakfast honey onto the patio table at Ogden Point Cafe and wipe it up with a piece of dry napkin the honey turns the paper into raw material for making a sculpture which then responds to having some water poured onto it by expanding and finding its own shape. It is now gone but the camera captured the moment.
Garments that leave space between the body and the fabric tend to be more comfortable than something tight and clingy for a number of reasons.
Freedom of movement is one from a waistband to a neck or arm or leg hole or overall contact. Head, feet, hands are also affected. The body responds to restriction and to lack of restriction, to the sense of 'breathing with the skin' or feeling 'suffocated'. We tend to breathe differently, move differently, think differently, behave differently in different levels of comfort. Clothing can be a stressor(s). More obvious examples are a too heavy coat that weighs on the shoulders and the neck; too tight shoes;
Our natural heating and cooling systems are compromised by clothing that does not allow the body to regulate its own temperature which it can and will do when given the chance.
Layering is one way of housing the body with clothing. A loose vest can be worn over indoor clothing or over a coat or instead of that coat. Hoods serve all the function of a hat without the grip. Waistbands that tie allow for changes both daily, monthly, yearly.
It's a mindset, really. Not changing an entire wardrobe but increasing awareness.
Living in India gave me the experience of wearing a sari and this has influenced my practice of clothing as architecture housing the body ever since.
I thought this length of fabric was a sari when I came across it in a local thrift shop so it had double appeal. ($8.50 Cnd : I like it when people tell me how much they pay for such things)
It feels like silk, has that slight drag across my thumb but my hands are a bit winter rough at the moment and I am not 100% sure it is pure silk. It certainly drapes and intensifies like silk....hmmmmm. For some reason I have a doubt. Perhaps it is of a silk of a sort of which I am unfamiliar in a sari. Perhaps it is not a sari.
It has been valued or treasured because there are a number of fine darns as you can see in the photo; you have to search to find them, they are that well done. And people only do this when they feel they have something worthwhile.
It is the conventional width for a sari but the length is more than six feet and saris are usually either five or six feet; they may vary a bit in width to accommodate a child but I have never known one to be longer: they don't need to be - they are wound around the body and pleated so adjust to all shapes which is part of their charm.
Another thing - all the saris I have known had a border only at one end and this has a border at both ends. There is no need to have a border at both ends because you tuck one end into the waistband of your slip and this is never seen; it is the other end that is draped over the shoulder and 'on show'.
So this is a lovely mystery I may never know the answer to but it is fun to wonder.
The increased length has me also wondering about doing a few pleats in the usual way which lie across the stomach and provide the drape and ease for walking and then continuing to form pleats in a single file across the left hip before gathering the last of the fabric into folds, curving across the back, then across the front and laying over the left shoulder to hang down the back.
I never mastered the technique but it is fascinating to watch a woman putting on a sari spread her hand with fingers wide and weave the fabric back and forth between thumb and little finger to make a panel of neat pleats.
A posting about milkweeds got me thinking about Monarch butterflies and this poem.
I have no fear of losing touch with earth, For I was born of human, wasn't I. It's upward vision that I need, So I revere the butterfly. Encourage access to my garden, Entice it with supposed delights, Sing its praise and beg its pardon, An earth-bound creature craving flight. But while I stand with eyes and heart gone misty, Drawn to painful yearnings in that sky, Something gives, as indeed something is taken, And soul greets soul in raptured compromise.
This was my first blog posting five years ago today.
I called it Homefree because this is what you shout during the child's game when you rush back and reclaim home, something I have been doing contentedly all my life. And Out of the Ordinary because it was an expression of things I saw or heard or thought or did and wanted to share. Ordinary things.
It still is called that and for those reasons. But now it has pictures. (And paragraphs!) And people with whom to share.