Tuesday, January 7, 2025

Dressing Well

Anonymous Canadian Makers
Boy's Day Dress
1862
roller-printed cotton
Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto

Anonymous Indian Makers
Child's Tunic
ca. 1960
embroidered cotton and silk
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Anonymous American Makers
Child's Coat
ca. 1850
block-printed and roller-printed cotton
Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto

Anonymous Australian Makers
Girls's Dress and Cape
ca. 1880
embroidered cotton
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

Anonymous Japanese Makers
Boy's Kimono
ca. 1937-45
cotton stencil-printed with airplanes and helmets 
Asian Art Museum, San Francisco

Anonymous English Makers
Robe à la française
ca. 1750-60
Spitalfields silk with silver lace
Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto

Anonymous English Makers
Robe à la française
ca. 1750-60
Spitalfields silk with silver lace
Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto

Anonymous American Makers
Dress
ca. 1885
wool twill, silk embroidery, machine-made lace
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Anonymous Persian Makers
Coat worn by a Dervish
1857
(date the garment was purchased in Persia)
wool-felt patchwork lined with cotton
Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin

Anonymous Chinese Makers
Bridal Crown
19th century
metal frame embellished with multiple materials
Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin

Anonymous Chinese Makers
Bridal Robe
ca. 1875
embroidered silk
Art Institute of Chicago

Anonymous French Makers
Evening Jacket
ca. 1933
sequined silk
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

Anonymous French Makers
Evening Coat
ca. 1920
embroidered and beaded silk satin with feathers
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

John Galliano for Dior
Dress with Hat
2000
hand-painted silk, nylon and leather
(back view)
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

Telemachus' Kindness

When I was younger I felt 
sorry for myself
compulsively; in practical terms
I had no father; my mother
lived at her loom hypothesizing
her husband's erotic life; gradually
I realized no child on that island had
a different story; my trials
were the general rule, common
to all of us, a bond
among us, therefore
with humanity: what
a life my mother had, without
compassion for my father's
suffering, for a soul
ardent by nature, thus
ravaged by choice, nor had my father
any sense of her courage, subtly
expressed in inaction, being
himself prone to dramatizing, 
to acting out: I found
I could share these perceptions
with my closest friends, as they shared
theirs with me, to test them,
to refine them: as a grown man
I can look at my parents
impartially and pity them both: I hope
always to be able to pity them. 

– Louise Glück (1996)