A Vague Fashion Memory

By

Shapiro's

One evening, wandering through the streets, I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Her face was painted white erasing all of her features. She had corn­colored gold hair that rose behind her head accentuating her ears that were pointed like an elf. And she wore a dress that was fitted on the waist with panels resembling architectural shapes and sizes that flowed outward like a like a burst of energy.

I ran home to tell the Maestro, but he was unimpressed. A few days later, we were discussing art at a cafe on Broadway when she appeared again for the second time. "That's her!" I shouted and ran. But before I could reach her, she had almost already disappeared ...as if it were a dream.

This time, she wore a big black ball gown with handkerchief ruffles, a cowbell tied low on her waist with a red rope, and tap­dancing shoes. The sound of her footsteps— KonkKonkTapTap—left a distinct trail for me to follow.

One dress was made of gauze and was so delicate it had to be reinforced at the seams with black fusing and cotton twill, which gave it shape Brown ribbon and clear plastic tape provided more structure as needed around mid section

Another outfit was a diner suit made with muslin and duct tape It was paired with a sheath made from cotton velvet, normally used as theater backdrop Shoes were made with wooden dowels taped directly to the heels with gauze and duct tape.

In thos days the streets were more like a playground. It seemed like there were more possiblities. On several occasions, I took my mannequin and sewing machine outside and set up shop on the sidewalk, much to the amusement of the neighbors.

After a long hot summer, The maestro and I were invited to Joey Arias' birthday party at Tavern on the Green. Joey was a singer known for performing songs by Billy Holiday, and the party was sure to be lively.

That's when I saw her for a third time!!!

She wore a silk kimono gown draped to the ground with platform shoes that made her 6 inches taller.

I was nervous to approach her. But before the evening ending, she stood in the archway between the dining hall and the stage and signaled me to come over. She said, "why have you been looking at me all night?" I respoded by saying, "I made you clothes after seeing you in the street three months ago. Although I never thought I would see you again, I made a collection of clothes inspired by you."

"I want to give them to you."

On the same day past noon, she came to my studio and knocked on the door.

When the door opened she said, "Hey" with a deep and confident voice and, "Where are they?" After trying on the garments, she said "I'll take them" and left without comment. Two weeks passed without hearing anything from her. Suddenly, out of the blue, she called and said, "Everyone loves your clothes." "Can you show them during fashion week in ten days??"

Two of her amazing stylist friends, Edward Jowdy and Michael Delfino helped to organize and promote the show.

They brought Bob Recine to do hair and makeup, 12 of their model friends and a team of makeup and hair assistants to the loft on Water Street in the South Side Seaport.

When the ladies were ready, we drove them to Al's Bar in the back of my white Ford pickup truck. And upon arrival, they walked directly onto the bar top and showed­off the clothes. And within a minute they all disbanded uptown to other shows, taking what they wore in the show as payment.

The following day, I got a call from Richard Padiscio of Interview Magazine. I told him the story how the clothes were made. The show was called "A Vague Fashion Memory" and it was inspired by my love for her.