Lately I've been feeling like I've gained a little weight and it's been on my mind a lot.
My friend, Biz Henry, is an artist who creates a lot of sculptural work relating to the body, and she recently put out a call for her acquaintance to send her our clothing tags. I'm not sure of her exact intentions, so I hope she doesn't feel as though I'm stepping too far into her territory with this derivative work. A few weeks ago as I cut out tags to send her, I was thinking a lot about the look of each piece as its own material, as well as the design of individual tags... some of my favorite were the ones that were washed out beyond readability. What I also noticed, though, was something that I've always been aware of but never paid much attention to. I'm probably an average sized woman based upon my demographics, however my clothing ranges in size from extra small to extra large, and all of these pieces are worn with enough regularity to suggest that it's not me that's fluctuating. Strangely, some of the "larger" sizes are the ones that feel tighter. It doesn't really bother me what the tags say. Of course my vanity appreciates the lower numbers although what matters more is feeling comfortable in my own skin as well as the clothes. But, it does seem rather odd to see such a range and lack of industry standard.
I didn't send Biz everything, but most of my wardrobe saw a once over as pieces were culled for simple care instruction and ease of tag-detachment. Though I sent her all of the extra smalls and a few of the more interesting tags, enough variety remained to make a collage of 25 tags representing my own closet, spreading from S-XL.
What I also noticed, though it wasn't the point of this particular project, was the scope of clothing sources. There were a few U.S. made items in the bunch, but not a majority.
Gear: Nikon D90, Nikkor AFD 60mm f/2.8 micro