Part I: The Fabric & Patterns of Everyday Life

Michelle Casey, "Untitled", Journal Page, Collage/Mixed Media, 8.5 inches x 6 inches, 2009

When I first began visual journaling, working with magazine fragments of fabric patterns really began to interest me. I remember a friend pointing out how cool it was that a character I’d collaged was wearing “hound’s tooth”. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I Googled it. Although I was familiar with pattern names like: gingham and paisley, I hadn’t realized that this print I’d seen and even worn, hound’s tooth, had such an intriguing name – it sounded like something out of a Sherlock Holmes novel! Many students want to know how to develop their own unique voice through collage; I’ve found using something as deceivingly simple as the colours, textures and patterns of fabrics* in your pieces is a great place to begin…

I’ve long been a lover of fabrics. I caught the bug from my parents, fabric fiends, who took great pains to select the material they purchased for our special occasion clothing, home furnishings and window coverings. Decades ago my father worked at an upscale nightclub attended by the Pakistani elite – I believe this was where, immersed in these surroundings for twenty years, he developed his keen sense of taste and eye for interior décor and fashion. In Canada, he and my mother put his observations to practical use in our home choosing fabrics that gave it a warm, sometimes modern or elegant feel. As a family we frequented fabric stores tucked away in little out-of-the-way places in the city which carried beautiful, quality material at affordable prices. I still remember the gorgeous patterns and prints my parents chose for our dresses; some echoed the Laura Ashley designs so popular at the time. Smart polka dots and rich floral prints adorned the outfits my mother made for us. Donning tasteful, hand-made clothing was important to a lower-middle class immigrant family like ours as we strove to fit into Canadian society looking like decent, polished folk – especially at church or family functions where my father’s uppity relatives carefully scrutinized my mother’s impeccable handiwork.

So it wasn’t surprising that I grew up obsessed with fashion which I’ve come to believe is an important social survival tool. As a teen I spent much of my money on Vogue magazines dreaming of outfits I’d wear once I could afford them. Decades later while pursuing my MA, I began to investigate fashion’s effects on various societies – particularly North America and South Asia. One of the most fascinating stories of fabric and everyday life I ran across was how the great political and spiritual leader Mahatma Gandhi attempted to make the Indian khadi (worn by peasants) the national dress of India. You see in India of the early twentieth century, the British inspired western suit was very popular amongst the British-educated East Indian elite and Gandhi wanted to counter this. Not only did Gandhi want to have a national costume for India, which he hoped would unite its classes, he also wanted the fabric for the khadi (then produced in England) to be made in India. He wanted Indians to produce their own cotton to make khadis to improve the nation’s economy and spirit. Gandhi’s idea created a revolution – a veritable fashion war in which Indians burned their British made clothing in blazing bonfires! After learning this I realized what a powerful tool fashion is – that a mere piece of fabric could have such powerful effects on the psyche and economy of a nation. I remember an older relative joking about how Gandhi’s khadi looked like a diaper; if they only knew the symbolism behind his fashion choice and how it had the potential to improve the self-esteem, community feeling and economic value for a nation which had been subjugated to western rule for centuries! Since then I always think of Gandhi as kind a deviant fashion mogul.

Although they hadn’t studied the fashion of their Indian homeland, my Eurasian parents instinctively understood the silent rules and language of fashion. In Pakistan, living in segregated westernized Christian communities in the 1950’s/60’s, they marked their allegiance to Britain (the West) through their clothing. British authorities in India had Christianized them, educated them, given them shelter and jobs thus they chose to wear western clothing for political, economic and religious reasons. Shunning traditional Indian garb, they wore styles they came across through Sears catalogues, Hollywood films and American news. When they arrived in Canada many white Canadians couldn’t comprehend why we weren’t wearing saris and the like; many Canadians had no idea of the effects of British colonialism on the varying fashion tastes of South Asian East Indian or Eurasian communities. Although my parents left behind their Indian fashion sense, in our home in small ways, it was kept alive via their sense of colour and choice of patterning on fabrics, furniture and even in the culinary arts… the rooms in our house were replete with rich textures and gorgeous patterns with bright, jewel-like tones. Long ago my friend artist Jean Griffin aptly noted that, although I was westernized, she felt my colour choices harkened back to my East Indian biological memory and I do believe this was true for my parents as well.

Absorbing the interiors of my home colours and fashions provided me with pattern, texture and colour palettes for my collages. There are times when I use patterns and styles of clothing strategically to offer further insight into a story’s character or clues to the mood of a collage. For those of you who are saying, “Does everything you glue down have to be steeped in so much meaning?!” I say, well sure. For me it’s what I do – as a collage artist/thief, it’s my MO (modus operandi). It’s my way of putting my unique stamp on something. Sometimes I play with patterns by randomly choosing interesting colours and textures with no deep, dark meaning behind them at all. But often I have to admit, even when I’m not trying, a personal or symbolic meaning will intuitively find its way into my choices.

Stay tuned next week for Part II of this article when I’ll give you some interesting examples and tips on how to use patterning and fashion in your work. During the week perhaps you may wish to make a list of the fabric colours, patterns and textures which have marked your life. Take the time to go through your closet or walk down memory lane (ie. your childhood bedroom, your grandmother’s kitchen, your parent’s home, etc.) to reacquaint yourself with the fabrics of your life…

Note: References to fabric in your pieces could be: real, photographs, magazine prints, scrap booking papers, handmade papers or drawings.

Other Related Links:
Mahatma Gandhi
Khadi: The Fabric of the Nation (Forbes India)
Khadi: Wikipedia
Laura Ashley Clothing (History of the World)
Deep DNA Memory Theories: Can We Remember our Ancestors’ Lives? (Earthpages)