a dress.  This is so problematic in so many ways.  With all my talk about "making do and mending" and the absurd expectations placed on us by the fashion and beauty industries, I can't believe I've allocated any brain space on the beautiful item.  Most breathtaking is the fact that the dress costs $340.  I've never spent that much on any piece of clothing, shoes and coats included.  And still I've been trying to arrange and re-arrange the various extra little amounts and overtime I've earned in the last couple of months to rationalize the price tag.  Then there's the "new" thing: this particular dress can be justified by Fix rules - more on that in a sec - but the fact remains that buying it would give me the delicious rush of bringing home a gorgeous new thing.

A little more about the dress: it's part of a project by artist Andrea Zittel, a big hero of mine.  I saw it at a Chelsea gallery last Thursday, and it set in motion a whole chain of ideas that both totally violate Fix and are oddly in line with it.  I told myself I was going to look at art and I knew in advance that the dresses were going to cost $250-350 -- out of the question.   According to the smockshop site:

"A smock is a simple double wraparound garment designed by Andrea Zittel. These versatile garments are both attractive and utilitarian - each garment is one of a kind, and is sewn by an artist who reinterprets the original design based on their individual skill sets, tastes and interests.

The smockshop generates income for artists who’s work is either non-commercial, or not yet self sustaining."

 After pathetic lingering and admiring, I decided that just trying one on wouldn't hurt, and I chose an orange canvas utilitarian model with an unfinished neckline and a navy cotton dressy one by a different artist with a hot pink lining and contrasting embroidery.  While the orange one was very punk rock and looked good, it was the embroidered one that chose me.  The smocks are amazing on - they have a great line that I imagine would flatter anyone; the minimalist yet feminine aesthetic feels exactly my style.  Of course I love the idea of wearing the same thing every day, I practically do that anyway.  Andrea Zittel has been exploring the concept of the uniform for years, with criticisms (implicit and explicit) similar to mine about fashion and expectations; all of her work, the uniforms included, is concerned with utility/functionality and explores the surprising connections between design and the patterns and requirements of a person living in space.

As I tore myself from that beautiful dress, I couldn't help but think,  "I guess I'm not an emerging enough artist to get an Andrea Zittel pattern..." Does that mean I'm such an emerging artist that I'd consider scraping all my money together to buy one?  Or maybe I'm just a groupie...or a latent fashionista...

I find it troubling that the smocks are a commercial enterprise - of course an artist has to make her money, and she's giving "most of the profits" (according to the gallerist) to the emerging artists.  At the same time, I'm not sure many, if any, of buyers are going to: a. wear the smocks as uniforms, i.e.: every single day, for every purpose; or, b. inquire into the challenges these smocks present to the fashion and art industries, as part of Andrea Zittel's body of work.  My guess is that the people who can afford the price tag also buy lots of other beautiful clothes and want to wear those, too.  And if they're spending all that money on fabulous clothes, they're probably not very critical of fashion.  As an art object, the dress is unbelievably cheap - but it wasn't exactly made by Andrea Zittel; if it achieves its art-object function in performance, as a uniform, it is clearly not an investment as other art objects might be - it will wear out very soon.  Maybe I'm just bitter because I can't really afford it and I'm doing this project where I don't buy anything new...

As a Fix transgression, the smock might be justified as buying an experience (something I'd commit to wearing all the time not at work or cleaning or dancing), a one-of-a-kind handmade art object (still a thing, though!), or as a quasi-donation to an emerging artist (but the gallery - and Andrea, I imagine - will still get their percentages).  On the other hand, I've seen the pattern, and it isn't complicated.  It would take me a couple of tries on less-nice fabric to get to a perfect shape and technique; I even know how to do the hand-stitched neck and embroidery.  I would have to clear the space in my office for a borrowed sewing machine, and get that machine fixed.   To be quite honest, these details could potentially take me months, and by that time, this bee in my bonnet might be gone...