Brown Dress

I stumbled upon this web site today: Brown Dress, which is basically a journal kept by a performance artist, Alex, who is wearing a brown dress that she made, every single day for a year. As I was reading through Alex's journals, this section resonated with me, especially the part I highlighted:

"There's a simmering debate that I occasionally encounter in the contemporary visual art world, a debate about whether it matters who "actually makes" the art pieces (often a big-name artist creates designs and concepts, and the actual forms are fabricated by assistants and contractors who are experts in their craft - Dale Chihuly being our local Northwest mega-lord of this business model). I think it's an interesting and timely debate, because

as a society we always try to be as disconnected as possible from the hands that actually do our work, stitch the elastic into our underwear, trim the thorns from our rose stems, shine our restroom countertops, wrap the rubber bands around our asparagus. All these things are done by somebody's anonymous hands, like it or not.

So your cleverness in purchasing a fine jacket "on sale" in a store does make you the owner of that material item, but your ignorance of the person who's hands turned the collar and stitched the pocket lining together makes your ownership incomplete - you can't really take credit for that jacket's existence. The designer of that jacket can't really take complete credit for it either. There's a magic in building/making, if you've ever done it you know what I mean. By designing and building all the pieces of my own wardrobe for a year, can I claim some sort of complete ownership over an aspect of my life?"

Every now and then I find myself pausing as I realize that something I took for granted as a machine's doing was actually done by hand. For instance, we were watching a show on the Food Network a few months back and they were making candy. For the life of me, I can't remember what brand, but it was something that I eat. I was floored when I saw workers handling each individual piece of candy as they put it into packages to be sealed and delivered to my grocery store. I had just simply never thought about how that candy was made, or who was doing it. Like the author above, I've never considered who puts the little green band on my asparagus. How many of the things that I use and consume every single day, have been provided to me by anonymous people? I'm willing to bet most everything.

The point that Alex is trying to make, I think, is that it is possible to lessen our dependence on the mass market. I am such a victim, a proponent, a model of mass consumerism. I am surrounded by crap I do not need. I am surrounded by artisan-made collectibles that I do not need. I often wonder about what sort of message I'm sending to my kids: Happiness can be bought? Status is worth debt? Easy and quick access to something that can be bought is better than taking the time and effort to make it ourself? Even worse - money is love? Izzy, my three-year old son, was thanking me for the fancy shoes I got him for his birthday.

"You're very welcome, sweetie," I told him. "I bought them for you because I knew they'd make you so happy and that makes me so happy!" My thought at the time was that I was teaching him that giving gifts to others makes the giver just as happy as the recipient. Now I shudder at the thought that perhaps I was instead teaching him that material possessions bring happiness.

I believe that I am on the cusp of making a big change in my purchasing habits. But whether I'll start making my own clothes and accessories, begin hand-crafting gifts, start growing my own food, or just start turning out the lights more often, I do not know. But I do know that Alex's project has given me food for thought. Check her out and let me know what you think: Brown Dress.