“Share a photograph with a prominent color (or assortment of colors) that reveals more about you,” said the weekly WordPress photo challenge.
Wot! Just one?
How can that be possible?
Colourful fabrics tell the story of my life.
These are the colours in my wardrobe, and here are some stories to go with them.
This sea-coloured tie-dye reminds me of painting a mermaid on a sheet when I was a kid, all greens and blues, the backdrop to some game. Which may be why, every time I see this particular combination, I feel I have to have it.
Over to the right of it you can see a snippet of a dress that is printed with galaxies and nebulae against a night blue sky (for geek-me).
The blue batik below is from an outfit one of the family made for me in the last time I was in Ghana (2008). Top and down, as they say. I rarely have reason to wear it in Australia, the skirt being full length.
I like almost any colour, as long as it is bright, clear and strong. No subtle pastels for me.On the left is a skirt I bought at an African festival in Sydney a few years ago, drawn by the dramatic swirls of lime and chocolate.
In 2010 I fell for pink and gold roses, dramatic on black. I ummed, ahhed, wondered if I would look ‘like mutton dressed as lamb’, decided: ‘who cares!’ and made a tight, frilled skirt from it.
At right, a cheap printed copy of kente cloth made into another tight skirt by another Ghana in-law, that sadly no longer fits me. I feel a bit guilty about this one as it’s not a local cloth but a cheap import, although everyone wears it in Ghana. I do have several pieces of real kente as well, including a beautiful piece that belonged to my brother. We wrapped my son AM in it for his naming, and 15 years later it draped my brother’s coffin.
The pink, yellow and blue wavy pattern in the centre is the first African fabric I ever bought — in South West Uganda, in 1992.
I have never been able to bring myself to cut it, but I use it every summer, wrapping it around my waist as a skirt.
To the left is cotton printed in Ghana with the ubiquitous gye nyame symbol (except God, I fear no -one). Which is ironic, considering I’m an atheist. I bought it for the colours: aqua on purple = swoon.
I made a full skirt gathered from a yoke from this purple cloth, which I bought in some tiny, dusty village when on a camping safari in Tanzania in ’92.
The big green flowers on creamy linen have been made into a fully lined, fifties style dress, which also has a full circle skirt.
It’s my most recent sewing project. It took me 30 or 40 hours over nearly six months to make it (6 metres of hand hemming), and I haven’t found the right occasion to wear it yet.
The patterned blue was given to me in Uganda.
This piece has never been cut either, but DadaK and I used it to wrap AM onto our backs when he was small.
So there you have it, the rainbows of my life.