This was my first attempt at wearable art. It's titled, Slut.
This piece was a focus on one of the ways growing up in the United States as a first-gen Lebanese American has affected the way I think. I come from a conservative Lebanese family (not all Lebanese people are conservative though, trust me on that), and, as a result, I dress more conservatively. No shorts higher than the knees, sleeves are mandatory, etc. It's reasonable to me. Why expose yourself? You'll bring unwanted attention. You'll degrade yourself. This makes sense.
Growing up in a society that is okay with girls wearing the outfit above can be mind-boggling. I inscribed the words, 'slut' and 'whore' into the fabric, labeling girls for what I logically should see them as.
Yet I don't see them that way. For some God-knows-why reason, I feel as if they're better than me (hence the color black, representing dominance).
It's a weird complex that has always been hard to explain. At the same time, I'm proud of myself for finally understanding my thoughts and emotions.
The words are hard to read, and people can sound out letter combinations, but they never read out the words 'slut' or 'whore.' I feel like this reflects how I can't read Arabic. I'm defined by my own culture, yet I can't even read it's language?
Now, how did I make this? Let's begin with the fabric: It's not really fabric - it's paint. Let me explain. I took wood panels and fully covered them with duct tape. I put a layer of white house paint, let it dry, then put another thicker layer of white house paint into which I inscribed the words. Once that dried (it took a whole 24 hours), I put a layer of black paint. Then I sanded. The white letters revealed themselves. At that point I rinsed the dust off and put a layer of gloss. Then I peeled the paint off of the the duct tape. To my classmate's surprise, the paint came off by itself in whole as a sheet of fabric-paint.
To make the clothes, I didn't do any sowing, as that would be extremely time consuming and unnecessarily difficult. I used duct tape and hot glue, which I think held better than string ever could.
My classmates were really into the process and the end result, which is great. Along with being intrigued by the process, several people said that the end result looked like high fashion, and even more said that they could see themselves buying clothing with its fabric.
On the other hand, they criticized the photography (does not appear professional), the pose of the model (what if it was sexual?), the craftsmanship (some edges need to be refined), the length of the skirt (too long, not revealing enough), and how my message was not effectively communicated. In the end, I agree with their criticisms. Time after time, I keep failing at communicating my message. How can I stop this trend? I don't know. I need to do more research to figure this out.
If I were to redo this project, I would begin by starting a few weeks earlier. The extra time would really have helped me tighten things up. As I write this, I'm anxious to start my next project, yet I'm not sure of what I want to do. I think it's time for a nice week of exploring, researching, and brainstorming. ERB ✌
This piece was a focus on one of the ways growing up in the United States as a first-gen Lebanese American has affected the way I think. I come from a conservative Lebanese family (not all Lebanese people are conservative though, trust me on that), and, as a result, I dress more conservatively. No shorts higher than the knees, sleeves are mandatory, etc. It's reasonable to me. Why expose yourself? You'll bring unwanted attention. You'll degrade yourself. This makes sense.
Growing up in a society that is okay with girls wearing the outfit above can be mind-boggling. I inscribed the words, 'slut' and 'whore' into the fabric, labeling girls for what I logically should see them as.
Yet I don't see them that way. For some God-knows-why reason, I feel as if they're better than me (hence the color black, representing dominance).
It's a weird complex that has always been hard to explain. At the same time, I'm proud of myself for finally understanding my thoughts and emotions.
The words are hard to read, and people can sound out letter combinations, but they never read out the words 'slut' or 'whore.' I feel like this reflects how I can't read Arabic. I'm defined by my own culture, yet I can't even read it's language?
Now, how did I make this? Let's begin with the fabric: It's not really fabric - it's paint. Let me explain. I took wood panels and fully covered them with duct tape. I put a layer of white house paint, let it dry, then put another thicker layer of white house paint into which I inscribed the words. Once that dried (it took a whole 24 hours), I put a layer of black paint. Then I sanded. The white letters revealed themselves. At that point I rinsed the dust off and put a layer of gloss. Then I peeled the paint off of the the duct tape. To my classmate's surprise, the paint came off by itself in whole as a sheet of fabric-paint.
To make the clothes, I didn't do any sowing, as that would be extremely time consuming and unnecessarily difficult. I used duct tape and hot glue, which I think held better than string ever could.
My classmates were really into the process and the end result, which is great. Along with being intrigued by the process, several people said that the end result looked like high fashion, and even more said that they could see themselves buying clothing with its fabric.
On the other hand, they criticized the photography (does not appear professional), the pose of the model (what if it was sexual?), the craftsmanship (some edges need to be refined), the length of the skirt (too long, not revealing enough), and how my message was not effectively communicated. In the end, I agree with their criticisms. Time after time, I keep failing at communicating my message. How can I stop this trend? I don't know. I need to do more research to figure this out.
If I were to redo this project, I would begin by starting a few weeks earlier. The extra time would really have helped me tighten things up. As I write this, I'm anxious to start my next project, yet I'm not sure of what I want to do. I think it's time for a nice week of exploring, researching, and brainstorming. ERB ✌