...or tries to...

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Eleanor



I had looked for a dress form for a long time, in antique malls, in garage sales, flea markets, but never found the girl who was right for me. Too tattered, with shredded linen that looked like half-healed wounds, or too new, with prepubescent Kate Moss hips, (this would taunt me), or too expensive. Mainly, too expensive. There was one, tucked into the back of a beautifully staged stall at the Hillsboro Antique Mall, that was made up entirely of stiff hinged paper. A work of art. And as much as art.

Eleanor was half-hidden by the water-stained cardboard box she was stored in, out in the summer heat at the fairgrounds, in the territory staked out by the vendors who wouldn't pay the indoor fee. The man who tugged her free didn't seem to understand why I wanted her since I didn't sew. This seemed  strange: he was selling old enamel bedpans and chairs without seats, so repurposing seemed to have been his thing. Eleanor was in pieces and dusty but, otherwise, lovely. She had child-bearing hips. She could be short or tall. She was twenty five dollars. She was mine.


At first, she went commando, draped in vintage necklaces.


But she started wanting belts, and the fluffy things that anthropologie was giving away with holiday gift wrap.


And she turned out to be perfect for new things too pretty to be put away.


She wore dresses,


and brooches made of sea shells and coral,


and homemade necklaces.

For some reason, everything fit her, though I swear she weighs more than I do. That's probably not true. But I don't begrudge her. She's my alter-ego, my fashion victim, my sister. My headless, armless, tweed covered sister.


6 comments:

rosanna said...

And she is lovely.

Sans! said...

and she does not have child bearing hips! So snugly she wore your clothes, she could be your twin, Amy.

I see a head. A full head of pretty red fibers, paper butterflies and beaded flowers.

rosanna said...

Amy , do you want to know something about Little India and me ? go here http://lastanzadigiuggiola.blogspot.com/2010/09/il-viaggio-travel.html and you'll know part of the story.

Have a nice day , Rosanna
PS I agree with Sans, she is very thin !

Daydreamer said...

OH, Sweet! Long ago I adopted one of the truly antique ones..... not too shabby... but TRULY Not a shape that was Close to mine! I adorned it with antique clothes for a while..... but I think I really wanted one that WAS my alter ego! I sold her,... it, along with the antique clothes when I was clearing out my corners and down-sizing. Ages ago, my Mother had one.... pink plastic and adjustable to fit your shape for sewing..... I have sewed my clothes in the past and wished for one that I could drape and test out ideas on....
I think it is marvelous that you have named her! and she is Beautiful! As are the things she wears!

Amy said...

Thank you Rosanna. I'll tell her. And I'm off to learn about Little Italy and you!

Sans, thank you for that beautiful image. This way her face keeps changing, like imagination, and that's what she's been for me-like a sister I can decorate and imagine with...

Amy said...

Betsy-(still falling over from your mini-dumbwaiter-it's still killing me!), A pink plastic adjustable dress form, oh be still my heart. I wish you still had it in the family, I would love to see it. Pink plastic, wow...

Still dying over your dumbwaiter. People, if you're reading this, pop over to Daydreamer Betsy's blog-she built a dumbwaiter in her latest dollhouse-and it works. It's to die for.