Off The Cuff

I have made a number of pieces (Jilted, Thick Skinned) exploring the relationship between skin and wearable object.  To balance this, it's time to investigate the fabric layer, the clothing, which usually lies between the object, specifically jewellery, and the skin (body) on which it's worn.

As an integral part of who we are and what we do clothing has assumed many roles, including the ability to contain and carry through the addition of pockets, openings and fixings. The interplay of function and form, and the constant movement of, and interaction with, the fabric is at the centre of all of this is. Often unknowingly, people 'play' with their clothing, and in the process, momentarily redefine its form: shirtsleeves are rolled up; warm knitted sleeves are pulled down to cover fingers on a cold day' scarves are twisted and knotted; hemlines are hitched.

At this point of play, I suspect that clothing takes on a new role.  If a jumper is worn casually slung across our shoulders, perhaps with the cuffs carefully knotted on our chests, is it, at this point, a jumper, or has it become a necklace?

Found photograph
"Actress Deborah Kerr Wearing A Straw Hat, 
a Sweater Tied Around Her Shoulders"

Off The Cuff Studio work - found vintage dress, stitch, paper
© Vanda Campbell 2013

Off The Cuff Studio - found objects, paper, stitch
© Vanda Campbell 2013

A not so thick skin

There are a number of contemporary jewellers who are particularly interested in the relationship between the body and jewellery. Arguably, jewellery needs to be worn in order to fulfil its function, so to ignore this relationship would be foolish.  In addition to being worn on the body, jewellery is also often first attached to an item of clothing (eg. a brooch pinned to a lapel).  

For my final major project on the MA, I am exploring the relationship between these three elements - body, clothing and jewellery.  Is there a point at which one can function as another, or the qualities or aesthetics of one be echoed by the other two?

I have started looking at a few of the places in garments that are used to wear or carry objects, such as pockets but have yet to look closely at the body.  Until today.

At the start of the MA I experimented with applying a plastic coating to various found objects, with the initial intent to 'neutralise' their colour and form in some way.  What I discovered however, was that the plastic significantly altered the feel of the objects.  Cold, hard, metal objects became tactile once coated in this new skin, and almost warm or soft to touch.  Perhaps applying a 'skin' to found jewellery forms might be a way of acknowledging the body in this relationship?  Coating a chunky beaded necklace (found in a local charity shop) in an appropriately coloured skin, allows the form to be reinterpreted, and the beaded structure starts to take on the form of something much more skeletal.  I think I like!

Studio work - Skinned Alive  © Vanda Campbell 2013

Studio work - Thick Skinned  © Vanda Campbell 2013

Finding the findings

I have been struggling to get to grips with traditional metalworking skills, particularly those needed to craft the mechanics of jewellery pieces.  Failures, in varying degrees, so far include soldering, brooch pins, metal piercing. and anything that requires precision measurements and accuracy.  To be fair, I love my piercing saw (handed down from my father - a truly masterful goldsmith) and although I love the meditative process of piercing, I lack the patience to have any satisfactory control over the finished dimensions and form.   

Metal is such a cold, rigid material, it feels alien to work with compared to the flexibility of fabrics.  The act of working in metal is inevitably violent - heating the material to the point of surrender, before plunging it into a cold bath and then hammering it, bullying it, into taking on new forms and shapes.  Fabric on the other hand, would protest to the point of disintegration at such treatment.  If you have ever tried to fit a sleeve in a garment, you will know that fabric needs to be gently coerced or stretched into place.

It's taken me a while to accept the inevitable, but I am unlikely to be a maker who can draw on a wealth of traditional jewellery skills to solve the mechanics of my work.  But that doesn't mean I have to let go of producing the forms I need.  

I have written previously of my use of found objects, my findings ... and it's perhaps opportune that this same word is used to describe the small bits that go into the making of jewellery and garments.  I wonder what will happen if I replace jump rings and brooch pins with findings from the wonderful world of haberdashery?  Rather than using the obvious (buttons, zips, buckles etc.) the world of tailoring is full of hidden mechanics that support the structure and function of a garment ... methinks a trip to MacCulloch and Wallis is called for!

Flesh colour underwire casing, Macculloch & Wallis