Of needles and threads
When you stop and think about it, in the end, whatever said and done, it’s just clothes. Beautifully made clothes… Slaved over for months at times… Meticulously detailed… Conceptualized… Fitted… Cared for… Loved… By the maker, the wearer, the buyer. The random on looker.
But I think it’s more than clothes. I believe most of them have a story. Spun deep within the threads. Sometimes forgotten, sometimes lost. Like finding a ticket from a decade back in the pocket of an old vintage jacket. To know that someone travelled wearing it. Maybe met someone. Maybe fell in love. Maybe did a good deed. Maybe made someone smile. Maybe smiled themselves.
Or like a seamstress hand stitching each sequin like nurturing a child. Thinking about what it will look like when it’s done. Or how she misses her baby back home. Or how one day a princess might wear what she created. Webs of stories, each one more fascinating than the next.
People who care about clothes, who know they are more than just fabric can express through them. Can make people feel beautiful. Look beautiful. Can create wearable art. Can stun. Can narrate a story.
There lies a beauty in the flow of satin, the touch of cashmere, the simplicity of cotton, the lucidity of tulle. There were great magicians who created… breaking all rules. Pushing imagination to the limit. They created visions. And beautiful images. They created beauty. They created magnificence.
And to term these as mere clothes is unfair. Because they tell stories.
These are some of my favourite pictures. I love the dreamy and surreal feel that they create. Hope you enjoyed the post. This is the first post of this kind so was a bit apprehensive about posting it…
Do let me know what you think.