i really do believe that these ivey abitz clothes are made to wear every day, and i do wear them every day. i wear them to work at our soap company where i am making things by hand. i am getting into all sorts of creams, essential oils, carrier oils, soaps, body products and experiments in general — things that we make, and overall to do the things i do every day. i pick up my cats wearing them, i pet my dogs and take them here and there. i don’t really worry about it because the garments wash beautifully. some pieces i wash by hand and they come out perfectly. i have never had a piece lose its color or otherwise look any different when i put them on the delicates or handwash cycle. some pieces i dry clean even though i know i don’t have to — i just do. usually because the dry cleaner presses them better than i do, or i don’t want to iron them at all. a lot of pieces don’t need it. depends on the look you want from the fabric. sometimes i prefer the crinkled look of silk taffeta, and sometimes i like it to show off the smooth, almost reflective sheen of this fabric. a lot of other fabrics fall into place without having to do a thing, right out of the wash.
Author: client author
Categories
postmodern capitalist hippie
i really discovered art to wear thru cynthia. i met her online through her gallery of fine art, and when she said she was coming out with her own line–well, truthfully i didn’t know what to expect, but in the meantime i felt i had come to know cynthia quite well, her knowledge of style & quality, her ethics of what she would & would not accept. i didn’t know what to expect but i knew to expect all of this & more so i anticipated her first collection like a child waiting for christmas.
well, i’m off to do this & that for work. i have only dressed once & i am wearing an ivey abitz bartholdi shirt in very deep vintage rose georgette with a bartholdi overlay in vintage rose silk taffeta. i have a belt — an ivey abitz cozette jacket belt — that i used to wrap around a black knit cabbie hat. this fabric is made from striped vintage rose silk taffeta. with a pair of true religion joey jeans. i’m a jeans queen by the way. i must own 100 pair of jeans of course they are categorized as fat jeans & skinny jeans & at the moment i have a combo of baggy ones, ones that fit and tight ones. i could wish for better but at least i can get them all on if i have to. the outfits that i put together do define who i am & at the moment i would define myself & my look as postmodern capitalist hippie.
i have already decided that people who wear art are smart, strong, unique women & men, proud of their individuality. in adopting a handmade identity wouldn’t that by its very nature be the case?
my favorite thing that maeve from minnesota wrote is: the bad news is, identity is fluid. the good news is identity is fluid.
i love that!
i guess i should at this point id myself. i was born & raised an artist. a lot of my family are in the arts, and i grew up surrounded by art. i decided very early on that i would be a painter mostly, but painting branches out to other art forms, too.
my husband & i own a soap company called get a guru. people often ask what this means…to me it means so many things, it can mean believe in something spiritual or believe in what you do, whatever it may be or have a philosophy-any philosophy it is a personal kind of statement that can be interpreted in many ways, kind of like interpreting a work of art.
i think cynthia ivey abitz gets it. i think her entire philosophy gets it – that she loves and believes in what she is doing is reflected in her nature and in her designs – which brings me to what i love about Ivey Abitz designs, what they are to me, and why they are important in the larger scheme of things.
i had a friend who i worked with & was a clothing designer. unfortunately, he passed away at a young age – he was 36.
i guess i thought of his designs as couture – not as art to wear & not as being the same thing. Ivey Abitz designs, to me, characterize that term. art to wear it is. it allows one to appreciate art in a very basic way. it allows one to include art and to be creative in everyday life. what can be more basic than dressing for your day?
in a way, what is more important than how you present yourself to the world? this says who we are before we do. i guess i’m the type that won’t go out in sweats, etc. i have one friend who even goes out in her pajamas! this to me is really hilarious….& good for her, whatever. i just couldn’t do it.
this same friend, who is really as close to me as a sister–we grew up together like family–anyway, one time after a particularly bodacious evening out she got up to go in her nightgown, high heels & pearls! on the other hand i sometimes change 5 times while dressing for the day. i mean from top to bottom. entire outfits.
yes, i’m late to work every day. i am late to every event & my friends just expect it at this point. i have so many of cynthia’s clothes that i don’t know what to wear first! i love them all so much that i change & change again and again, deciding what to wear. so many options! they are made to work together so the possibilities are endless. i have so much fun that dressing has almost become one of my hobbies. in terms of collecting beautiful handmade designs, with gorgeous fabrics, this certainly has become a hobby. i seriously cannot get enough of them. i love them so much that i won’t wear anything else. if Ivey Abitz made underwear i would have them, too.
I’ve discovered that I’m coming to prefer just about everything on a smaller, more intimate scale. Our own food supply is one thing. A small community and personal service is another. Handmade, timeless clothing from limited runs of speechlessly beautiful fabric and with loving, well-placed details is yet another. Prior to every ivey abitz order I placed, there was an event coming up for which I’d purchased each piece. (That’s the official story, anyway. It was a convenient excuse to buy the pieces I loved.) Each time, comically, the event was either indefinitely postponed or cancelled entirely. Sometimes it was weather-related, sometimes not.
In the meantime, they instantly became the most stunning members of my closet, eclipsing even my formerly most prized and flattering pieces. The day I wore my black sueded silk Bartholdi skirt into town (not exactly the ceremony for which it had been purchased, but she had a good sense of humour about it), my husband kept gushing about how much he liked it and how well it suited me, and even the postmaster raced out from behind the counter to stroke the silk (she’s a woman, it was OK) and admire the wild, elegant design that I like to call controlled chaos. More than any of the compliments, though, it felt so good to wear, and instantly elevated my mood and reminded me of the transformative power of a well-conceived, beautifully handcrafted article of clothing that was literally made just for me. I was reminded of my powerful desire to both create and be surrounded by beauty, and what it does for me from the inside out.
The ivey abitz collection debuted right about when we moved from Alberta to a small mountain town in British Columbia, and the timing was perfect. I’d been purchasing pieces from the other designers’ collections that IA used to carry, and already loved the quirky, unusual, “boutique” items that I didn’t see on every other person on the street. But I was blown away by the exceptional quality, attention to detail and point of view of the ivey abitz pieces. They were so far above and beyond even the other lines represented at the gallery, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them. I even look forward to receiving the swatch books, and have kept each one and engage in some tactile time now and then, enjoying their textures.
Our beautiful little town in B.C. has been a culture shock, too. I keep describing it to friends as Green Acres revisited, and it’s no exaggeration. I’m playing the Eva Gabor role, wearing my beautiful clothes in a sea of casually clad retirees and far more polyester than is strictly necessary. I’m even Hungarian, just like Eva. We started an organic farm and now have cows, goats, chickens and ducks and are facing the usual challenges in taking care of them while still maintaining our sense of humour. My husband and I wanted out of the industrial food supply, and to become more self-sufficient in both the big and small things in our everyday lives. It’s not for the faint of heart, but I wouldn’t live in a big city again for any temptation.
My own group of artists, writers, and geeks was neither emaciated nor extraordinarily wealthy, so we ate with gusto, kept our food down and shopped on Melrose or Main Street to score cool vintage clothes that we’d mix up with more modern pieces and then swap among ourselves for greater variety. Even then, though there were occasional longings to have access to limitless finances, we knew deep down that budgets were more liberating than limiting; and that our resourcefulness and creativity muscles were getting exercised in ways that really opened our eyes to possibilities and unique combinations. Our templates weren’t models, which was liberating in itself.
There was never any mention of the actual quality of the clothing, though; for the most part it was about the “look.” No one seemed to care about or notice the materials used (other than the fact that we all hated polyester and acrylic), the stitching, or anything as exotic as dressmaker details or handwork. With few exceptions, none of us was ready to recognize, appreciate or embrace the hallmarks of excellence that would later come to mean a great deal. But when the shift does take place, it’s mind-bending and extends into every other corner of your life. At that moment, discernment is born and your childhood is over.
Fast forward a couple of decades. Something happens as you grow up. Cycles and trends become easy to predict, because we’ve finally lived through a few rounds of them and can see it all as a circle and not necessarily a linear progression. Trends are finally seen for what they are: gimmicks to promote impulsive spending, and not benevolent offerings from exalted, over-hyped designers to enhance one’s personal style or uniqueness. But there are exceptions.
to be continued in the next entry…
Moving to Canada was more than just a culture shock. It reminded me that there are millions of people in the world who actually experience all 4 seasons every year. Sounds simple, but up to that point, I’d never been one of them. From a sartorial perspective, it means that winter isn’t just a slightly cooler few months in which to toss a jacket over whatever you’re wearing. It means heavy coats, layering, clunky Herman Munster boots with real traction, and hats and gloves for warmth and not necessarily style. It was refreshing to see everyone dress for warmth, comfort, safety and snow-proofing instead of mere vanity. Soon I became one of them, in order to have a hope of enduring the Calgary winter that sometimes dipped as low as -45 with the wind chill. Stepping out of doors on those days felt just like razor blades scraping against my lungs.
Needless to say, we planned our escape.
to be continued in the next entry…
When I lived in L.A., I always took it for granted that just about any article of clothing from every major designer was locally available and would probably be showing up on either a classmate or one of their mothers (I grew up in Beverly Hills). It was always fun to see how people interpreted fashion and what they would do to individualize it for themselves. But I noticed that what made the quirky vintage and more unusual pieces exciting to me and my outsider group of friends, just didn’t seem to exist in the high-fashion crowd. The established designer pieces that they wore as a trophy for purposes of exhibition, just didn’t require any personality or creativity. The goal was to look like the runway model or magazine ad. The only thing that was broadcast was the amount of money paid for the item, and the whole process was very outside-in and not inside-out. The hallways at school were miniature runways where most people looked exactly the same and were, for the most part, indistinguishable. A lot of the girls carefully maintained a perpetual state of bulimia in order to properly resemble the models in these clothes, and it was understood by everyone that it was just a normal part of that exclusive subculture, regardless of how screwed up it was in real life.
to be continued in the next entry…
Just last summer I was sitting all alone at the end of a pier, waiting for a boat to arrive. It was 9:30 in the morning. I was having a moment of quiet (in a Camilla Shirt, natural hemstitch striped cotton, and Baedeker Skirt in black premium irish linen) and I was appreciating the solitude and beauty of the landscape.
Then I heard, “A queen of all she surveys.” Then this man waxed on about me being a queen sitting there overlooking my domain or something. I laughed and his wife and friends joined him, and on he went about their travels, language, love of fine food and cooking. By the time they boarded the boat, they had taught me how to make wine vinegar. Now, I wouldn’t want to read too much into my shirt and skirt, but I think if I had been sitting there in a sweatshirt, jeans, and loafers, the conversation would not have started in the same way. I, of course, didn’t feel like a queen, but I did have that relaxed sort of sophisticated feeling that I have come to like while wearing Ivey Abitz, and that feels quite age appropriate for me.
At the same time, I do not feel conspicuous in Ivey Abitz clothing. I lose the self consciousness that comes with wearing something that isn’t quite right or is uncomfortable. I feel very comfortable in Ivey Abitz designs.
I have now worn the Camilla Shirt on many, many occasions. I wore it to the local Opera House for an evening fundraiser. I wore it to a huge brunch for 80 people. I wore it to a large cocktail party of 50 people. I’ve worn it to town, to church, and to dinner. I have catalogued many different comments and responses. I can usually count on the shirt getting noticed, so retiring, wallflower, introvert types should be forewarned. Although I have some social anxiety, I am an extrovert, so I like it.
I wore the Camilla Shirt to a fundraiser at the Opera House. A friend’s sister exclaimed over and over how “gorgeous” the shirt was. I thanked her over and over and, as usual, shared with her the story of Ivey Abitz, the design elements, the antique buttons, etc. Then she asked how much the shirt was. Her face froze. She exclaimed, “Then it’s even more gorgeous.”