I don’t comment on fashion much in this blog, and won’t pretend to be an authority, but I do love fabric. So when I read about the much-famed Prada lace skirt in the NY Times my heart did a little flip and then dive, first because lace is something I work with (as you can see here):
And then the dive because of course once something I love leaves the indie-world and moves to mainstream, I either lose interest or grudgingly admit I want it want it want it. And if on top of that, it is using a material I employ in my own work (trudging along by candlelight and printing press while Prada blazes runways at top speed), I see a timely end to the fad and all it’s charm.
But here is the skirt, probably reproduced in countless blogposts across the world by now, but oh well, let’s take a look again:
Loathed by some, loved by many, but regardless of what anybody else thinks, this lace is so exquisite it makes my hands hurt wanting to touch it. Nearly every day I sit in our garden with my Turkish neighbors while they make lace or crochet sweaters or knit blankets. Their hands never stop working, and I wonder, should we calculate the time and energy of their work, how much fuel could be created, how many fossil fuels saved by their flashing hands and wrists? If I were more scientifically inclined, I would whip up a formula. A Prada lace season will come and go, but these Turkish ladies will keep on going with their doilies and dust-protectors, and sleeveless cardigans for cool evenings, as long as the coming generations continue the tradition. I am not sure they will, but I’m hopeful the lure of a pleasant evening among friends while drinking tea, eating sweets, and crocheting lace will continue its appeal.