CHARLES & PATRICIA LESTER

 

I look like a turnip

 

This week I bought some turnips – is that a mind shattering development in the world of fashion – no not really. I was curious to see exactly what a customer meant when she looked at herself in an outfit and said: ‘I look like a turnip’. I smile every time I think of her comment that day. So examining the shape of the turnips – I understand what she meant. As she stood in front of the mirror in a lovely coloured pleated two piece her waistline just seemed to bulge – it was not so much her body, but the effect of a two piece with a pretty curly edge on the hem of the top that gave a look of bulk in the middle of the whole outfit. She then tried on a simple column of a dress and immediately she stood tall and slim. The combination of how she perceived herself and the shape of the garment caused a certain dropping of the spirits and drooping of the body.

 

 

Interestingly someone of a very similar shape can try on the same outfit and look much less like a turnip because they do not see that part of their body as being a problem. It is absolutely no use telling someone that they do not see themselves as others see them. What can you say when someone is twisting round and examining their bottom and exclaiming: ‘does this make my bum look big?’ Well perhaps distorting your body shape in order to examine it at a funny angle might make it look big to you, but the onlooker does not see the same picture. But you cannot dissuade the wearer – it is how they see themselves, not how we see them that is important.

'Does my bum look big?' - a butternut squash perhaps!

 

Something that is difficult to explain to others is the fact that the person trying something on is very used to seeing themselves – more than anyone else in the world and that person is her own worst critic. They immediately focus their attention to the ‘problem’ areas and do not consider that that is not where they should be looking. Instead they should look at their best features – lovely skin deserves exposure –  heavy breasts should show a provocative bit of cleavage which in turn can be used as a focus for a pretty jewel. Slim ankles does not mean that you have to wear mini-skirts – thin ankles does not necessarily mean that you have pretty knees – but a sexy glimpse and dainty shoes will show off those pretty ankles.

 

Another point about how people play with the clothes that they try on – so many times they will pull a jacket or top down in the front so that at the back it is tight into the neck. Now we are built like turtles – our heads come out of the front of our bodies and if we exaggerate the back by yanking the garment forward we can end up looking like a tortoise. And if there is a slight dowager hump beginning to appear as we age – disguise that by having a collar that sits away from the neck giving a straighter line down the back. Optical illusion – who cares – what I tell people is think Geisha – the back of the neck is sexy!

 

What I find interesting and quite emotional is when someone tries something on that they would not normally consider – then looking at themselves in the mirror they see that they can still look stunning – despite the fact that they are older, fatter, thinner – whatever. Finding the right shape that enhances the best parts is something that should not be done in a hurry, it should be savoured like enjoying good food. So shopping for an outfit, for a very special occasion, should be taken slowly. Experiment with new shapes, new colours – I never wear red – then try it on – sometimes your conviction might be proved right – other times – well we all change and evolve in our style and our taste as well as our colouring.

 

Mothers of the bride or groom are classic. They often come with the conviction that they should play a certain role. A tailored suit – a hat and a handbag. Now do they really want to look like their mothers at their weddings? Absolutely not – these mothers are still young, sexy and pretty and do not need to be bound up in something that will remain forever at the back of their wardrobes. Feminine, flattering, floaty, comfortable, fun – go for something that you will want to wear over and over again.

Spring - a touch of sunshine and we need to get out there and feel the warmth and look for signs of the end of winter.

Colour for a mother of the bride?

 

Or perhaps something more dramatic?

And you don't HAVE to be sixty to wear purple.

Corset restrictions

 

I recently watched a period drama where there was a sub-story about the restriction of corsets and how women were controlled physically by that period's obsession with what was perceived to be the correct way to look and behave.  It suddenly struck me how we are still corseted today psychologically.  The whole way that society challenges people who are not below average weight and I say 'below' advisedly because plus size is now considered to start at a size 14, which is below average size.

 

Recently during London Fashion Week a designer had the temerity to choose models who were a size larger than the usual size 8.  Sadly he chose garments for the larger girls that gave them a sausage look and for the slimmer girls a draped look.  Both models did not look their best - the larger girls showed their bulges and the slender girl looked like a waif with the garment hanging on her.  Was he making a point or was he just stupid?  Interestingly one of my staff looked at the larger girl and said: 'I would be happy if I looked like that'.  Not that she is very large, just average and used to her own bulges, of which you are not aware because she is wiser in the way that she dresses.

 

This whole obsession with how we should look and what size we should be is ridiculous.  Considering the number of people in the world and understanding that each one of us is an individual - why not relax this whole ugly condemnation of people who do not conform - stop corseting them with the whole psychological bombardment of guilt induced publicity and instead celebrate the glorious variety in which we are made.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Words of appreciation on an autumn evening in Wales

 

The world has shrunk into the palm of my hand.

 

Recently I was marvelling at modern technology and sent an e-mail to a friend who was away from home at a conference in Atlanta, I said: "the world has shrunk into the palm of my hand". Her response was "I accessed my e-mails on my Iphone which fits in the palm of my hand". And that is what is so amazing. I do not have an Iphone, but the way that this little box that is my computer will introduce me to all sorts of people and knowledge from around the world still fills me with awe.

 

Having launched our on-line shop – we are getting messages of appreciation and enthusiasm from far and wide. Spellings are being corrected as predicted in my last missive – but what is food for the soul – are the words of encouragement and excitement about what we do – from friends and complete strangers. And yet are they strangers? We have a link – the clothes that we make are worn by people who appreciate our art enough to part with hard earned cash in order to be part of the creativity – they put life into these inanimate objects and the garments create a bond between the creator and the wearer. A bit like a fish – without water it cannot live and the water has no life unless it has something living in it.

 

This one to one communication has, in the past, been a very rare occurrence for us. We used to meet so few people – having the cold wall of the shops between us and the ladies who choose to wear our work. For example a while ago we had a special order from a shop – we created the outfit according to the wishes of the customer, the information conveyed to us through a third – no a fourth - party. I was so thrilled with the result that I dressed the mannequin up in the outfit and the girls went into the studio to have a look and marvel at the product of our combined work. The order was despatched – did we get a reaction from the shop – no just: ‘the customer has collected her special order’. Is it vain of me to want a few words of appreciation? Yes I suppose it is, but you can lose confidence if you do not get a reaction, even a second hand comment warms the heart.

 

There have been some very special store buyers who conveyed the passion and enthusiasm that they felt when the new order arrived at the store, and we would even get the names of celebrities who had been into the store and bought the clothes - but these were rare. Mostly a buyer might go to the exhibition, crash around amongst our precious gems – comment that they ‘might be able to move one or two pieces’ – leave everything in disarray – go away and then after two months prevaricating cancel the order because we did not fit into a recognisable category – we were not bling, red carpet, celebrity cloned nor did we make things out of nettles and banana leaves.

 

One such buyer was so offensive that I refused to sell to her. Was that arrogant on my part – no not really – if a buyer did not like the collection, but had been told by her seniors that she should buy it – she would make damned sure that it did not sell in order to justify her opposition. When someone like that is rude about the clothes and offensive about our lovely model – that is a very strong indication that she does not relate to what we do and therefore would not convey any enthusiasm to the shop floor staff – who are, in fact, the most important link in the chain.

 

So you see getting these lovely e-mails from people expressing enthusiasm for what we do is so encouraging and a real bonus for us – from other artists who otherwise we would know nothing about, such as a water colour artist in San Francisco – Ruth Koch – such talent – beautiful real plants painted with love and understanding about light and colour. Another artist living in Turkey – WOW – how did he find us?

 

 

There is a picture on Ruth's site that could have been painted in our garden.

www.ruthkoch.com

 

 

Now I need to go outside and absorb some colour combinations – the autumn is a gold mine of colour with sometimes a hidden surprise. One time I remember driving up a leaf strewn lane – at the side of the road was an abandoned drink can – brilliant electric blue in amongst the copper and gold of the discarded beech leaves. My first reaction was – what a colour – then b*****s for throwing rubbish out of a car. My eyes and brain are tuned first to colour – then to the environment. The interests are very close, but the colour wins every time. I wanted to pick up the can and start a collection of squidged drink containers (brightly coloured ones of course) – I thought perhaps a piece of conceptual art entitled: ‘Road Kill’! Well these conceptual artists seem to get better attention than those who have strived to achieve real craftsmanship to express their art.

 

 

Blue foil fish in rippling tide.

Yes - I saw the blue colour first - the complained about the litter after I had taken the photograph!

 

 

 

Now I can express words of appreciation to those who have taken the trouble to express the pleasure that they have experienced when wearing our clothes - and shared with us the little anecdotes to tell us of their understanding and love of colour and the sensual quality of the fabrics out of which we create the body and home textiles.  That is you - Sandra who wanted to wear your husband's vitamin D tablet on a cigar band because of its glorious vivid green colour!  Beauty does not necessarily have to be valuable - it can be as transient as a rainbow or drifting sand on the beach.

 

A rainbow seen from our house by the seaside - nature magic

 

 

Lost - a golden shoe

 

 

The lighter side of a log

 

Fish-eye

Transient art - a fish drawn with seaweed, laurel leaves, driftwood and a tennis ball held together with drifted sand.

And finally how nature can inspire

 

 

Maureen's cabbage

 

Explanation: a cabbage leaf found in my cousin's garden - the soft velvety colours of a beautiful skin found in a cabbage leaf!  Roses are not the only plants that transform into a new beauty as they age.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New York Fashion Week - London Fashion Week - Milan Fashion Week - Paris Fashion Week

 

New York is somewhere over there!

 

Fashion Week Then and Now.

Many years ago we were in Venice quietly wandering down the strange decaying and beautiful alleyways – a sound erupted from behind a wall. It was the sound of children escaping from school – Charles froze. It is that kind of feeling that we should be having about the headlines relating to ‘Fashion Week’. Charles had left teaching some time previously, but still he blanched at the sound and felt pangs of guilt thinking that he should be looking after that hidden crowd of small people.

 

No such feelings for us any more – Fashion Week – well I read a bit on-line and that is about as far as I need to go. No longer do we have to struggle onto a small plane going out of Cardiff to Paris – drag suitcases of clothes to the exhibition space only to find that the tent is flooded with 2 inches of the river Seine ‘no problem – it go away now’ – precious expensive dresses hooked up onto a rail – will the buyers think to bring wellies as for a Glastonbury Music Festival? Or there is a ‘manifestation’ and all the public transport is ceased up and crowds of French locals are looking menacing because they want this or that from their government. This creates fear in the buyers and they stay in their hotels or scurry around to the more private showrooms and place their budgets in the few ‘safe’ havens of established companies.

 

After a number of such bad experiences we decided to show in one of the grand hotels on the right bank where other designers had escaped. Here we sat in extreme comfort – again waiting just in case a buyer might come across us by mistake and sit down because they are shattered and actually look at some of the collection and marvel at the unique qualities – sometimes even placing a small order. Then the long wait again – do we wine and dine in the evenings and go to parties – absolutely not – there is nothing more exhausting than sitting around doing nothing. Our only indulgence was to stay an extra day to visit the lovely streets around the Rue de Seine, enjoy the galleries and then after lunch at a tiny restaurant just off Pont Neuf we would go to the garden centres and buy seeds – big fat packets of seeds that were not readily available in Monmouthshire.

 

Last year we thought we should try to re-establish some contacts again particularly with American shops. We decided to apply to show with one of the big groups in Paris. They requested that we send photographs, list of stores that we supply, press features etc. We were then turned down with them citing the fact that ‘we were not a designer collection’. My first reaction was a huge sense of rejection – then a few days later, having stamped around a bit and expressed my feelings in expletives that should not be written down – I decided that they were right. The term ‘designer collection’ has been taken over, hijacked, stolen – by the big corporations. These organisations establish a brand name (often not even related to an individual human being) and then they market it – get the goods produced in the Far East for pennies. They have the money to advertise big time, they can demand that shops restrict their margins, etc. etc. and the little people do not have a voice at all. The magazines feature big corporations because they will pay for advertising – they are controlled by finances rather than their own creative instincts.

 

This whole commercial takeover has meant that the small, individual designers like ourselves had no-where to go – UNTIL NOW.

 

NOW IS OUR TIME. The internet does not bow to big commerce – it is there for every designer, every individual can be there, in public, able to be heard, seen, appreciated, and most of all their creations purchased without endorsement either by the shop buyers or the doyennes of the press. Individuals with no axe to grind can write reviews, make suggestions, correct spelling mistakes – one to one. Isn’t that just so fantastic? Shops no longer control what the purchaser can buy – the customers have the entire world open to them – they can browse at home, in the middle of the night in their pyjamas – shop and not have to pay for car parking, struggle in poor weather. OH what heaven. AND the designers can compete for that attention whether they are whacky creative individuals who make half a dozen pieces a year, or have a small team like us of 6 people who create our collection. Yes six – with another 4 who work behind the scenes on the paperwork, keeping order and dealing with the complexities of the computer stuff.

 

So Fashion Week in New York, London, Paris, Milan or anywhere else in the world will see us by the seaside playing with the dog – watching the sun set and marvelling at the wonder of the world and this extraordinary technology that has created a NEW ORDER. ‘The meek shall inherit the earth’ and we are here busy sharing that inheritance with you!

ARE WE JUST PLAYING - NO WE ARE BUSY CREATING A NEW ON-LINE SHOP: www.gallery-of-wearable-art.com

 

Thinking of London Fashion week

Another view towards New York