Dare to be Fabulous: the Life of a Fictional Muse

Let’s face it. Being fictional definitely has its advantages.

Being young, thin, rich, brilliant, and glamorous hasn’t gone to her head because I haven’t let it.

Her accomplishments are plentiful, her options endless, yet her soul remains grounded and sane. Intelligent, introverted, generous, unassuming but never shy or falsely modest, and whatever faults she has only add to her depth and charm: such are the qualities of my heroine because such is the power of the auteur.

Too bad I can’t so easily wield similar transformational power over my own life… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

As a fashion designer, it’s good to have a muse. As a novelist, it’s good to have a main character.

Several years ago I turned my sixth-scale, glamorous fashion doll muse into a fictional story character… or maybe I turned my novel-in-progress’ character into a fashion doll? I'm not sure which way it happened, but never mind; what’s interesting is the vividness of this persona in my imagination, and her role in my creative life.

Even more personally intriguing are the ways she reflects parts of myself (as so many muses—and main characters—do, if we’re truly honest), yet the ways she is different than I am, and any possible relevance this has to my so-called Real Life. Could I be more like her? Should I be more like her? What about her do I envy and admire? Does her imagined life contain any cautionary anecdotes?

Would it ever be worth my asking in a challenging situation: What would Reverie Larke do… and what would she wear while doing it?

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A few years ago, I began writing an elaborate work of fiction, escapist fun yet also serious. This was roughly around the time I was first taking fashion doll couture seriously, but at that time the two activities were separate.

There are few things quite as fun as creating a character.

The man who recently repainted my deck has a bumper sticker on his truck: The older I get, the better I was. Too true! Although I'd never want to go back again, certain aspects of youth have grown better with time. Making my novel’s main character in her mid-thirties was an appealing choice, a no-brainer for me as a fiftysomething dreamer. And one of the story’s themes is that being rich doesn’t equate with being evil, although it does have its own set of challenges. As the old joke goes, it’s tough having a personal crisis, but less tough if you’re going through it in the South of France. Considering all these things it's small wonder that I made Ms. Larke in her mid-thirties, and bestowed on her an enormous and unexpected inheritance while I was at it.

Because she is a travel writer, with a stroke of my virtual pen she lives in New York City, all the better for wearing basic black and dropping by to see her editor. Here in my Real Life San Diego, by way of contrast, there is very little hustle, let alone bustle. It would be a lot harder for me to present Reverie as a so-called serious businessperson if I had her living in a beach city embellished with palm trees, where everyone is either at a Pilates class, or sipping on a fruit smoothie while getting a pedicure. So Manhattan it was. And since the cost was only time and research, off we flew (in a private jet, of course) to many exotic points beyond, when her adventures really began.

Doll-wise, it’s great fun having my muse be a wealthy, sophisticated young New Yorker who never changes her dress size and always—always looks fabulous and intriguing. She can have a thousand gowns, suits, coats, and shoes, all of the world’s finest fabrics, in any imaginable style. This combination of looks, money, persona, and residence makes her the sort of woman Hermes designs handbags for, those iconic bags that eventually end up with waiting lists even though they retail for as much as a small family car.

The clothes, the handbags, the custom-made luggage… the multiple homes, the endless boxes of outrageous jewelry, the room-size closet filled with the latest in glorious runway fashions… If I don’t insist on these things belonging to me personally at 1:1 scale, it’s all very attainable.

And it’s not just the clothes, either. In sixth scale, as in novels, endless bright and dark dreams are waiting to come true.

It’s obvious this is part of why we read, or write, or dream through fashion dolls. We give ourselves over to the magic, suspend our disbelief, touch our most luxurious dreams, and embrace the unknown. We can play endlessly with impossible options, none the worse—and possibly enriched—by our elaborate flights of fancy.

Yes, I enjoy the idea that Reverie Larke still works hard at her chosen profession, even when her significant wealth would make this unnecessary. Whether it’s the clothes or the intrigue, I love putting myself in her situation. Her lapses and mistakes seem oddly familiar, even though the scenarios themselves are not.

Guilt free, I can put her in danger… and put her in couture while I’m at it.

What I’ve probably known all along is my muse, my heroine, really does hold up a mirror... and not just while primping for opening night at the Met. Through her, I’ve exaggerated some of my imagined attributes and several flaws (best left unsaid), and I’ve placed her where I probably will never be (a palatial Art Deco townhouse). I sit at my computer in worn jeans and a baggy sweater, writing about spy gadgets and Prada shoes.

If Reverie Larke were real, she might actually envy me my calico cat, my devoted husband, and something that approaches wisdom of my years. She might even envy me my dreams, or at the very least, my fashion dolls.

Do I wish I were her? Well, I guess I don’t really want to be kidnapped by a sociopath, get exploited by tabloids, or have perplexing memory gaps.

If I want some of her luxury, I can remind myself to squeeze fresh orange juice and drink it from a champagne glass while listening to Vivaldi instead of grabbing a Diet Pepsi and watching another Law and Order rerun. And instead of doing another load of laundry, I can (finally) write the last few chapters of my heroine’s adventures and lose myself in them, or get to work pulling out fabrics for my next sixth-scale collection.

Life and art: Viva la difference; viva la fantaisie.

Why I Dream in Sixth Scale

The year is 1961, and the first Barbie doll that comes into my home belongs to my mother. It is a blonde ponytail, and Mama has dressed her in Sheath Sensation, that terrific red cotton dress with the gold buttons, white straw hat, white wrist gloves, and black open-toe heels. The doll stood on her dresser in front of a tray of fragrance bottles, looking like she’d stepped out of VOGUE. I stared at it every day.

Another year or two of my childhood has passed, and I now have my own brunette bubble cut Barbie doll. In a witty twist, my mother has given me the brunette doll, and my raven-haired sister the blonde version. I’m hard at work making clothes (or is it ‘hard at play’? With dolls it’s the same thing). At first my skills are a little shaky, but with practice the whole thing starts to feel somehow right.

Those early Barbie doll Made in Japan outfits blew me away with their dressmaker detailing. I’m not the first to say this, but these were not doll clothes: they were miniature couture. It set the standard in my imagination, a benchmark. Every time a new pattern came out to make my own fashions, I was thrilled. As a ten year old on a toy sewing machine I couldn’t approach that level of quality and detail, but I certainly tried.

One of my favorite recurring childhood dreams was of finding amazing doll clothes. I still have such dreams. In the most recent of these, about a month ago, I dreamt some unnamed person willed a remote country house to me, and in the supposedly empty house I found fabulous displays of the most amazing doll fashions in clear boxes. By this time, I’d figured out it was a dream, and was excitedly committing what I was seeing to memory so I could record it in my journal when I woke up.

From the very start, it always felt like the perfect size for me. My sister and I could spread out in the living room and create entire rooms: shoe box beds, cardboard art galleries with magazine cutouts or our own artwork, beauty salons with egg carton cups as hood hair dryers, fashion shows on makeshift runways. I could make a dress on the barest scrap of leftover fabric.

With this scale, you could hold the doll in your hand, a precious object, and it was yours.

Later I would learn to create my own designs, and this was a tremendous thrill. After decades of this, I think I can draft a Barbie size pattern freehand in my sleep. I liked—and still like—that a complete pattern for this doll can be drafted on a sheet of typing paper, even on a tiny airline table.

A row of sixth scale girls looks unobtrusive, and at home, on a bookshelf. One of them can travel with me with ease for unique photo-ops.

Years later, there is yet another dimension to my appreciation. At this scale, a doll lover can reasonably have dozens, or hundreds, in their collection. Like countless other enthusiasts, I have a closet full, some just waiting for outfits and transformations, and others waiting for their turn to be on display.

Because they are not large, I feel a bit freer with them: a haircut here, a crazy outfit there.

Of course the sixth-scale (playscale) shoes aren’t nearly as cool and detailed as those of the big gals. Sleeves are harder to set in. Fabric scale is more of an issue. Linings can add too much thickness. All but the tiniest beads and buttons look wrong. Sometimes when I see those big, gorgeous dolls, I do have a wave of interest, but in the end my heart goes back to a foot-tall icon in a red sheath, and the countless other chic and glamorous vixens who have followed in her tiny footsteps.

Maybe it’s as much nostalgia as aesthetics, but when sixth scale is done right, for me there is nothing quite as magical.

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Dream On

Viktor & Rolf / Fall / Pret-a-Porter 2008

First notes about Fall / Winter 08

Hello. I've gotten a few questions since publishing my collection images online...

Yes, these clothes are a little bit unusual for doll clothes. No, it's not an accident; I design them like I'm doing real runway clothing and not so-called doll clothes.

Yes, I sometimes design and enjoy a bit more conventionally glamorous and pretty clothes. No, for this particular collection I wasn’t trying to design clothes merely to be traditionally pretty, as such.

Yes, I drew upon my artistic and theatrical sensibilities with this collection… the goal was designing striking, mysterious, haunting couture-type fashions that tell a story and describe a set of emotions, memories, and aesthetics. No, these aren’t for everyone and they’re not meant to be.

Yes, I am truly happy with them. No, these particular designs will not be for sale, although I may eventually create some related pieces in ultra-limited editions.

Yes, doll fashions can be as intriguing as human fashions, and I want to help make that happen. No, I probably won't sell doll fashions in the immediate future because I want to get back to writing for a while.

Yes, I have specific plans for more doll couture, and will be happily attending the International Fashion Doll Convention this July in Las Vegas. No, I certainly don’t mind if people contact me. Yes, all of my contact information is on my main website. No, it’s not a sales site.

Yes, I believe doll fashion can be as original, exciting, and varied as true haute couture when doll fashion designers take it seriously. What a grand time we could have...

Thank you for stopping by.

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P.S. Clicking on "View my complete profile", on the menu to the right, brings up links to my website, and also my email address.

Necessaire de Voyage

mind-lit midnight eyes

broken colored lights inside

prepare to find dreams

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Jewel of the Collection

This is the design I created to serve as the messenger for a proposed collection. My personal goal was to address several key elements of current couture with a new and unique look that could serve as a kind of signature.

Although it was submitted in the larger doll size for the Project Dollway competition, this photo is in sixth scale, my preferred size.

Again and again on the runways I was seeing a young and leggy look with black tights, and it's something I've always loved. The beret was another key piece this season, one I love to interpret in velveteen. Overlay netting had been used effectively, and I was anxious to work that intriguing look into the collection. Another key look I was drawn to this season was the strapless empire.

Mostly what I worked from was a mood, a feeling. I wanted something that took away the clear line between day and night; I wanted to create a dreamlike look, theatrical without being at all silly, and very luxurious, maybe a little haunting, like the models are heroines of a novel. I wanted something of a rumaging-through-the-costume-trunk feel, but at a couture level.

When designing, first I develop the basic ideas that will define the collection. I knew my fabrics would be essential to creating the posh Bohemian look, and as I looked for fabrics realized how powerful certain muted but still intense jewel tones could be in carrying this out against the black.

The net overlay on the skirt worked out really well for me, and I love the look. What's interesting about the black netting here is its effect on the underlying satin. It emphasizes the folds of the skirt in a very cool way (see photo). Another thing I liked was the way black netting gave a rich dimension to the skirt's color. The peacock taffeta for the bodice actually has fine black threads running through it, so the black netting on the skirt helped the two jewel-toned fabrics click with each other.

What took the longest was probably the fabric selection. But it's something I really enjoy. That, and also feeling like I wanted to design the entire collection on the spot. I decided that even if I got eliminated (which, as always, was entirely possible), I would go ahead and do a collection based on this dress anyway, for my own enjoyment.

For the contest submission, I included an original black and gold handbag. This is really the Golden Age of the handbag, so I felt I should include a really confident-looking one.

Years ago, I heard a phrase that really stuck with me, an idea that could be applied to any number of art projects. The term is "Final Presence", and I wish I knew who coined it.

It's what I try for in an ensemble; I don't always perfectly achieve it, but sometimes I do. Something greater than the sum of its parts, something that looks meant to be.

Mattel's "Silken Flame" for the old Barbie doll had that quality. Everything clicked together in a perfect way, the red velveteen against the white satin, with just the perfect amount of gold metallic.

Designs like that have stayed with me through the decades.

The Power of the Collection

More often than not, I'm the first to awaken in my household. I love the quiet time alone while it’s still dark out. With a cup of steaming coffee in my Cafe du Monde mug, I check my calendar, read my email, and come up with a To-Do list for the day.

Then, it’s time to look at fashion. Creativity coach Julia Cameron calls this kind of thing “filling the well”.

Since I don’t live in New York or Paris or Milan, or dress in anything resembling couture, a big part of how I enjoy the world of fashion is to view the couture and RTW collections online and in glossy magazines.

Now more than ever, since Project Dollway, I think of myself as a designer who happens to be working in sixth scale.

When I create doll fashion I never copy or adapt the designs of others, but I do enjoy the way the art form of fashion collectively explores an array of ideas and directions at any given time. Seeing the work of other designers (both well-known and obscure) is entertaining, educational, and inspirational. I believe it helps us find our way to our own personal visions.

Once I began really studying high fashion, and not just doll fashion or that of everyday people, it changed my vision of doll fashion—and its potential—forever. I do realize this isn’t the way most doll collectors look at doll fashion, for various reasons.

Since a picture is worth at least a thousand words (and after all, fashion is supposed to be art and not literature), I’ve devised a simple exercise.

This little exercise will have more impact on those who don't spend much time around couture but instead spend more time around doll fashion. You hard-core Fashionistas, on the other hand, probably already get the message. Either way, I think it’s worthwhile.

The more unusual, dramatic, or unexpected someone’s design ideas are, the more important it becomes to present those ideas as fully as possible. This is an idea that’s more familiar in the world of science: the more unusual the claim, the greater the burden of proof.

To help me make my point, I’ve shamelessly pulled an image off of Style.com. Style.com is my favorite Go-To site for all the couture and RTW seasonal collections. Any of several collections could have worked here to illustrate my ideas.

What you’re viewing (see photo above) is an ensemble from the Fall 2007 Ready-to-Wear collection designed by Nicholas Ghesquière for the house of Balenciaga.

Not something you see every day, is it? So, what was the designer thinking about; what ideas was he exploring? Viewing a single outfit, it’s not always easy to say.

All alone or in the wrong company swims an awkward and unhappy swan.

With such an outfit as this one, even if the designer satisfied the requirements of a contest challenge ‘on paper’, he might well have been eliminated from a doll fashion competition for such an offbeat offering.

Imagine this outfit next to, say, a series of clean and simple dresses, or everyday street-wear. Hmm.

But wait; there’s more… an entire runway show, in fact. Now, to put the duckling where it belongs, please look at the entire slideshow, and let it sink in. Balenciaga, Fall 2007 Ready-to-Wear. It can be easily viewed at the Style.com website.

Aha.

Even if it’s not to your taste, a well-designed innovative collection can be surprisingly fresh and powerful. You might still decide you don’t personally care for an outfit after seeing it as part of a collection… fair enough. But personal taste aside, it becomes much harder to dismiss it (or diss it) as a failed design.

It’s the nature of fashion, as other art forms, to change, and in changing further define itself.

Careful observation of a well-conceived collection reveals a point of view, a set of ideas, a story.

You may or may not like an outfit even after seeing the whole collection, but at least after learning more about it, your thought process changes: How well did the designer execute what they seemed to be saying? Is it interesting, is it appealing? Does it somehow still satisfy basic aesthetics, but perhaps in a new way? What was their story?

The colors, cultural and historical references, textures, silhouettes, details, wit, and everything else that might be explored in a high fashion collection is there for us to see. When it works, it can be grasped without necessarily being understood or articulated verbally.

Not all innovative ideas succeed... whatever that means. But when they do, they’re often the most memorable designs of all.

The Ink Dark Moon

Where are you hurrying to? You will see the same moon tonight wherever you go.


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Ono no Komachi
Heian era poet, Japan
AD 850

(trans. by Jane Hirshfield with Mariko Aratani)

Beyond the Ordinary

Participating in a doll fashion contest is the perfect opportunity to examine one's outlook on art, design, and fashion.

For some time now, I have been thinking about the gap between high-end fashion and doll fashion, why it exists, and what I can to to nudge doll fashion along in my own small way. I'm not talking about being deliberately odd, certainly not just for the sake of it. But I am quite excited about approaching doll fashion just as an innovative designer of couture in the real world might approach their next collection. I'm fully committed to the idea.

Doing something unusual does not exempt a designer from certain overall laws of aesthetics, of course. We're still concerned with balance, with line, with texture, with color. We're still playing with cultural, historical, and even emotional references. Technique and construction still count, too, perhaps even more so. Being avant garde is not a get-out-of-jail-free card. Good designers realize these things, and work accordingly. Close study of even the most dramatic or outrageous couture reveals how much serious design and execution goes into it.

Can doll fashion be more like high fashion? Probably only a small percentage of doll enthusiasts share this interest. I don't expect this idea to become universal, but the more time I spend looking at the international world of couture innovations, the more I want doll fashion to be part of the adventure. I dream of seeing doll runways alive with the artistry and excitement of Paris, Milan, Tokyo, Madrid, New York.

The 1:1 world of couture directly serves only a few thousand people worldwide, but it exists to drive the dream machine.

How could things be in our little world?

A fashion doll doesn't always have to look sexy. Sometimes she can look like a work of art.

A fashion doll doesn't have to grocery shop or run out to the post office.

A fashion doll can inspire and be memorable.

It might sound like a paradox, but I'd be thrilled if doll fashion could be both lot more serious,

and a lot more fun. Just like the real thing.

Little Black Dress: my sketch and brief notes

This sketch is one I did to envision my fashion doll's Little Black Dress ensemble on a real model. Even though the design was intended for a doll, I find it useful and enjoyable to think of it this way, as well. My personal preference is to design my doll ensembles so they could appear on a real runway as part of a collection, regardless of how wearable or fantastic the design concept. The couture fantasy is part of the allure.

Silhouettes in Black, continued

On my way to creating a little black dress for a doll design challenge, I made a brief mental stop at a Barbiedoll ensemble I designed seven or eight years ago.

In those days I paid only passing attention to the world of couture when thinking about doll design. Instead, I mostly ruminated on certain long-standing personal design themes, more focused on the world of doll clothing than taking any inspiration from the spirit of runway fashion and the latest collections.

There's nothing really wrong with that, of course-- you could make the argument it would serve someone better in this competition. But it's a design approach that no longer gives me a lot of satisfaction.

This ensemble is called Brunch at the Del, named for the famous old Hotel Del Coronado here in San Diego. If the Del could talk, it would rattle off many dishy stories of the rich and infamous. Much of Billy Wilder's Some Like it Hot was filmed there (Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon, et al). I didn't design it to be specifically vintage, but the outfit still has that feel, in a doll-ish sort of way.

It's a fun outfit, but a similar look would not have been a good choice for the contest I was in. The color being included within the dress itself, especially to that degree, means it wouldn't fit the criteria, having been cautioned by the head office against making that choice... and rightly so. And while I still like the ensemble, it is almost too Barbie-esque and somehow familiar, even though it was a completely original design. That kind of look is admittedly a good fit with the doll's image, but I was committed to designing a new and interesting silhouette from scratch.

What pleases me about this ensemble is how well yellow goes with black. I also feel a successful element was the band on the bodice that echoes the curved band on the hat.

The design phase is often what takes me the longest... not because I struggle for ideas, but because I struggle with having too many of them. I'm sure many of you are like this, too.

The world of fashion is as wide as it is deep, and I would visit many intriguing possibilities along the way to my design solution. In doll design, the journey is as interesting as the destination.


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Silhouettes in Black, first remarks

In fashion, black is quietly powerful.

Sometimes it's a welcome refuge, a safe haven.

Black is iconic.

Black is its own category, a challenge for all designers to reckon with. When we allow ourselves to think beyond the typical solutions, it forces us to think about shapes, about silhouettes. It's also about surface and texture, but what strikes us first, and stays with us, is the shape black carves in our visual field.

So does the shape need to follow the figure? This image is a style.com runway photo of a design by Stefano Pilati for Yves St. Laurent's striking Fall 2007 ready-to-wear collection.This is obviously a jacket, not just a dress, but it reminds us the body need not be followed in typical ways. Notice, too, the use of thick black tights to continue the silhouette.

Pure low-key drama.

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