When objects and people go through experiences, they come alive; much like how clothing, once worn, begins to carry stories and share them with the world.
Hanging at the center of this historical building is a suspender skirt, shaped like a window frame and bearing the timeless name—Ground floor, 16 Tsing Fung Street. It was crafted from recycled fabric and tailored to mirror the proportions of the window frames in my former art space, The Edge.
“Besides investing significant effort in preparing dozens of paper patterns for each piece, the most demanding part of the process undoubtedly lies in creating this window,” Seamstress Fong Fong explained. “At first glance, it appeared simple, as we only needed to sew straight lines. However, it turned out to be completely different from our initial expectations. It required multiple rounds of sewing and detaching. This slippery, delicate organza fabric proved to be quite challenging, occupying my entire day!”
Another expansion of my design repertoire came in the form of the umbrella skirt, which originated from a previous creation using umbrella ribs I had broken during a trip to Japan. Five years later, I felt compelled to delve deeper into the concept of the umbrella skirt. To my astonishment, I discovered that the Upcycling Centre of St. James’ Settlement is recycling old umbrella fabric into umbrella covers, leaving the leftover umbrella ribs unused. It was a match for my artistic vision. This collaborative process, where both parties found utility in what the other had discarded, exemplifies the emerging trend of sustainable living.
帳篷試了很多個大大小小的紙模型，花了數天，最後反而取用最簡單的形態。
I spent several days experimenting with numerous paper models of various sizes for the tent. Surprisingly, in the end, I ended up choosing the simplest form.
MUDWORK, the creative team behind the upcycled installations, explained, “We began by hand-sketching photos of old items from Hong Kong. These sketches were then printed out and assembled using collage techniques, resulting in a diverse array of paper models.”
“About half a year prior to the exhibition, Toby invited us to create sculptures using old items from Hong Kong. So we began collecting old furniture and everyday objects. We managed to amass a collection of over a dozen old items from second-hand furniture stores, online platforms, and urban expeditions. Among them were bicycle wheels, screens, student chairs, wooden cabinets, iron gates, ceiling fans, and more. With this assortment of objects, we embarked on a creative journey, where we envisioned how these objects could be dismantled and reassembled. Countless sketches were drawn, and through extensive experimentation, we crafted intriguing sculptures that retained the essence of the familiar old items while presenting a fresh and innovative appearance.
Some of these old items have been in our possession for nearly a decade, accompanying us through four relocations as we moved our studio from rural to urban areas, each time downsizing our space. Yet, with each move, we held onto these old items, believing that they would eventually serve a meaningful purpose in the right context. This is probably a characteristic sensitivity shared by sculptors. Creating upcycled installations using these old furniture and tools empower art to redefine the imagination of contemporary urban materials. The sculptures serve as the backbone of the clothing pieces, resonating with the embroidered stories and intertwining local narratives, encapsulating the collective memories of the public.”
LED 影像攝影師Cola：「一開始Toby跟我說想以香港斑馬線作為地下的影像主線，再加入城市中的光影、把人們的身影交織在一起，因為她這個作品是想呼應新舊香港之間的連結。拍攝前期，走遍了很多地方，然後用了3天半來拍攝，因為捕捉光影很需要天氣的配合，雖然遇著雨季，但慶幸都能順利完成。」
LED video photographer Cola shared, “When Toby first approached me, she expressed her vision of incorporating Hong Kong’s zebra crossings as the primary visual element on the floor, merging them with the interplay of light, shadows, and the silhouettes of real visitors. The intention behind her artwork was to evoke a sense of connection between old and new Hong Kong. Prior to commencing the actual shoot, we explored various locations. Eventually, we dedicated three and a half days to the shoot, as capturing the dynamic interplay of light and shadows depended heavily on favorable weather conditions. Despite encountering the rainy season, we were fortunate enough to successfully complete the shoot.”
I have been constantly pondering what style of clothing would best incorporate the 130+ Slow Stitch stories for this exhibition. After six months of contemplation, I finally decided that alongside the iconic tent dress, I would create garments that draw inspiration from the intricate details of the collected old clothes. Whether it involves transforming a shirt into a poncho, combining multiple shirts to fashion a circular blouse, or utilizing sleeves to construct the side panel of a tent dress, the key lies in seamlessly integrating the clothing with the stories, presenting them in a form that embodies the fashion of our present time in 2023. I envision that these garments, when they eventually become antiquities in the future, will also become part of fashion history. They will serve as a testament to the styles we once adorned and the stories of Hong Kong that we embraced.
Beatrice recalled, “They didn’t sell clothes on the streets back then..”
Mrs Au, resident from Blue House, said, “The clothes you could find on the streets were all graveclothes. During that time, most clothes were custom-made. For someone like me who didn’t have much money, I would borrow clothes from friends and take turns wearing them..”
Captured in 1958-59, Becky was wearing a dress made by her mother. “Back then, we would buy clothes from May May Dept. Store. These garments were all imported from England. It is only now that I realize my family was considered relatively affluent during that era.”
Judy remarked, “During the 1970s, as the Hong Kong economy started to flourish, my father took the bold step of establishing his own fashion company. In my eyes, he is a true fashionista, possessing a remarkable sense of artistic beauty. Even to this day, he continues to go to work every day, as devoted as ever.”
The individual captured in this 1983 photo is Gigi, who also took on the task of developing the photo herself in a darkroom. “Back in the 1970s in Hong Kong, male tailors dominated the production of Western clothing, known as ‘ghost clothes’ worn by foreigners. My mother was one of the few female tailors in the industry. She started as a sample maker in the factory, but she soon realized that the fashion world was changing too quickly. Her skills were not yet proficient, and the styles and trends had already shifted. So, she joined my cousin in the tailoring business. In those early days, mechanical sewing machines were used, which later transitioned to electronic ones. Tourists would come and go hastily. Customers would stay up all night, drinking coffee while awaiting their custom suits. In the morning, they would take the boat and leave. I still remember delivering the suits to the Tsim Sha Tsui store. We had to be very careful not to wrinkle the suit trousers, so we would hang them on our forearms while standing on the bus the entire journey!”
As I listen to these captivating stories, I realize that they represent our oral history of Hong Kong fashion. Fashion, to me, is not just a reflection of passing trends, but rather an imprint left by the passage of time.
「DRESS iN TiME 穿起時間」展覽的展期由現在起至2024年1月7日，於油街實現 − 油街倉庫 1舉行。
“DRESS iN TiME” exhibition is from now until January 7, 2024 at Oi! Warehouse 1.
