ARCHIVES

what we put on hold and the holds it has on us

I was asked to shoot a really special story for a magazine I love. I don’t want to give too much away, because when it comes out I’ll have a lot to say and want to save it for then.

Where I’m going with today’s offering is more about what the invitation led to. On top of shooting and art directing, I was asked to style the subjects in archival Mara Hoffman. At first I said no to that part. It made me uncomfortable, and I was like, “No, I want to work with other people’s designs. I need space from my creations for a minute, and let me breathe, man.” But as the concept for the shoot took shape (think Frida Kahlo, flower mandalas and color) it hit me that it had to be my pieces.

So we took a trip to my storage unit in Brooklyn to visit the archives. If you’ve followed me this past year and change, you may have seen my stories from inside said unit, climbing through piles of boxes, basically pleading for help.

I have 24+ years of collections stored there: one of each sample from every collection, fabric cuttings, all the original artwork for prints, paper patterns, binders, boxes of styling accoutrements, artwork from studios I worked in and our store, and more. Basically everything, all stored in large plastic bins. Yes, I KNOW this is no way to preserve clothing, hence the pleading for help. I’m in deep need of a proper archival setup and will hopefully get to that this year.

As we approached the unit, I called in help from my guides to make the experience easy. I asked not to have to break my back looking for something, to find exactly what I needed with total ease, and for it to be fun. It’s rare that they disappoint, and to my delight (though not my surprise), what I needed was in the bins closest to the entrance.

I’ve been back to this storage maybe three times since we closed the company. Each time before felt matter of fact, no big emotions or feelings of longing. This time though, was something else.

Maybe it was the undoneness of some of the pieces. Ideas with proverbial and literal pins still in them. Works in progress, put away mid-creation, waiting to be tended to, maybe finished later. These beautiful ideas, left in process, each one almost yelling at me as I held them up, “Mara, you’re back! We miss you. I’m not done. Finish me.”

It was the first time I’ve cried in that space. Of course I shed many tears through the process of ending, but this felt different. It was an emotional embodiment of missing my work, missing the relationship to my creations, to the art and the material and the process. To what I had believed my purpose to be for so long. Their unfinished states created a wave of longing to be with them again, to see them through to completion.

I packed a bin to bring home for the shoot. I thanked the space over and over, told it how much I loved it, how deeply grateful I remain for its existence. So many years of creation, connectedness, and purpose live inside those bins.

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There can be no rigidity in this time of my life. It feels essential to let it move me and through me in whatever way it comes. No no’s. No declarations of what this means or what comes next. Just noticing what’s here, what each part of this process brings.

I think this shoot came along to bring me back to that storage unit. To open the boxes, to see the pins still in place, to remind both the pieces and myself that we are still very much in process. Still unfolding. Still very much alive.

A few of the works in progress/samples I brought home:

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AND ALSO…

CHECK THIS OUT

A really in depth and inspiring interview with Matteo Azzolini

Notes on Taste with Mara Hoffman

Until next time. Xo Mara