Preserving Preciousness

I have talked frequently of the impact of my visit to the V & A Clothworkers Centre on my design practice. Prior to that I had always equated sewing perfection almost with the invisibility of the stitch itself. The marks of a garments construction hidden away behind linings and carefully positioned thread.

Within the vintage couture I selected to view, every detail of their creation was on show. The outsides were immaculate, but the insides told the story of the time and artistry necessary to make such a garment. Nothing was hidden, nothing was there to conceal, everything served a purpose. What I saw that day challenged all my preconceived notions of what dressmaking is and what perfection looks like within a finished garment.

Balmain Evening Gown: V & A stored collection.

One thing I have not talked about is the experience of my visit within the context of the underlying themes of my master project. Over time this has been something I have come to reflect on a lot. From the moment I entered the studio and saw my selected dresses laid out so precisely on the table, it was clear how precious they were. I may have chosen vintage couture, Dior, Chanel, Balenciaga and Balmain but the same treatment would have been applied to the tiniest scrap of fabric within the V&A’s collection of over 100, 000 textile and fashion items. The whole building is dedicated to their care, preservation and restoration.

Inside bodice of a Balenciaga gown, V & A Clothworkers Centre.

Visitors are not allowed to touch the objects, instead you are assigned a person, professionally trained to handle textiles, which they do wearing purple gloves. The delicacy with which these dresses were treated was just extraordinary, I could ask to see every detail of the garments, the insides, the hems, fastenings, finishes but for each request I had to wait for the assistant, to diligently uncover each element. Those dresses may well have been made from glass for the care they received.

The reverence shown towards the textile objects within the V& A collections is something that stuck with me. Something that was further highlighted by a talk I attended this month given by the senior curator of Fashion at the V&A, Claire Wilcox. She attended Derby book festival to promote her new book Patchwork ‘A life amongst clothes’, her memoirs told through stories of textile objects from her own life and the V&A’s collection.

Dior Black Swam Evening Gown Bodice Structure, V & A Clotherworkers Centre.

In between reading passages from her beautifully written book, she talked about the work that goes into caring for every piece of cloth within the museums collection, the conditions in which they are stored, their process for restoration and preservation. The person employed solely to eliminate moths, what happens to clothes that have disintegrated (they are kept) and her work in the creation and display of some of the most successful exhibitions at the V & A, including Alexander McQueen ‘Savage Beauty’ and Frida Kahlo ‘Making Herself Up’.

What I loved from both the book and her talk was her obvious passion for textiles. Not because of their status, but because of the stories they tell. She made no distinction between designer labels and 17th century cross stitch, from a historical perspective everything is of equal value. When asked her opinion on fashion, it was her love of objects and the real and imaginary narrative that can be applied to them that held her interest. She argued that speculating on the history of garments in the museums care could be just as valid as facts, sheading light on their owners, those that wore them and the lives they led.

Claire Wilcox's memoir, Patchwork.

During the Q & A session I told her of my experience in the clothworkers room and we discussed the dresses I had examined. She told me every piece she had ever studied, presented new discoveries on couture techniques and that working at the V & A was a lifelong learning experience in the art of dressmaking. That she had visited every couture house in Europe and had been granted access to their collections, archives and watched the ateliers at work whilst researching and planning exhibitions. She concluded by saying that she wished she had learnt to sew, so that she could put all the skills she had learnt into practice. I just wished that I could transplant all her experiences and memories into my own head. I have never heard a person describe a more perfect career than Claire Wilcox.

So now I know what my dream job is, coming back to my masters project, from the very beginning I investigated curation within museums and galleries to examine the meanings of objects and the stories told through their placement. When I revisit my early research alongside my visit to the study room and Wilcox’s talk I can’t help but reflect on the treatment of objects. How we handle them, store them, take care of them and what that implies about their value. Their very treatment commands respect and makes clear their importance.

Cataloguing Sindy circle skirts used to develop silhouette and print design.

Over the last two years I have come to view my project in a much more holistic way, this is no longer just about producing final outcomes that deliver my original aims and objectives.

The idea of suggested value is something that should be clearly indicated at every stage of my design process and in everything I do, every sample whether successful or not needs to be catalogued and treated with care and presented in a manner that inherently displays it’s significance and contribution to my masters project. Not just as a means of delivering the themes at the heart of my project but for me a designer and the manner in which I engage with my work both during and after it’s creation.