As I return to a dress, (a wedding dress made of diapers to be specific) I started four years ago for a show in November, I am reminded of those moments when life reveals itself. The first kiss in a snowstorm, the conversations on the porch of an old farmhouse, the way the oar hit the water silently yet pushed you forward, the night spent watching stars fall, the drives towards the sea in your (still best) friend's old Toyota when life's possibilities seemed wide open. Some moments are brief, some are missed, and you cannot always know what they’ll mean. When I began this piece, it was a protest dress, a way to push back against expectations. With time, it has become something else, something more complicated but softer. As I play with this archetype of wife and mother, I also honor the space between the moment we arrive in this world and when we leave it (til death do us part holds true for both roles.) In this process, I am reminded of the sheer grace of it all even amongst the mess…and a dress begins to take form.
