The importance of sequins

I felt pretty useless when the pandemic started. Stuck in my tiny apartment; surrounded by sequined pants, more tulle than I could store, and extravagant outfits for my cat. I had a fabulous wardrobe (and cat) but I was broke, unemployed and had nothing to offer the world - which was crumbling all around me. What good is fashion in the face of such a crisis? I felt a bit like a nail that has been pushed-in; compressed by the heavy weight of a hammer with nowhere to go.

As I went about my business in this squashed-nail way, applying for jobs and offering my measly thoughts and prayers to the world – I pondered the new normal and my place within it. I had never felt so non-essential in my life. The world needed doctors, scientists and smart people to solve complex problems - I was certainly not going to be much help with that. But upon reflection, I realised that ‘non-essential’ has kind of always been my jam. I mean, matching gingham dresses with your cat has got to be the epitome of unnecessary... I started to question everything I had ever loved (which is mostly clothes). As vain and frivolous as it felt, I really missed getting dressed up. My wardrobe - my life-long happy place, was fast becoming a very sad place. Sequins gathering dust & bright colours left in the shadows.

To scratch this itch, I got out my scissors and started making masks. I made a lot of brightly coloured, glittery masks - with jewels, metal rings and oversized bows. This inspired a lot of curiosity at the supermarket! The thing I like most about dressing up and wearing something ridiculous is walking down the street and seeing the reactions on people’s faces. Wearing silly stuff compels people to interact with you – which was something I didn’t even realise I was missing so much. Fashion for me is a spectator sport - it’s about making people smile, and sharing an experience with the world.

It suddenly occurred to me that I did have something to offer after all. Even though my work is indeed non-essential, and is generally unhelpful in a medical crisis – in my own little way I was making people smile, spreading positivity in a truly desperate time. I started to think like an artist, because art is surely essential. It’s a record of our shared past, it sparks conversation and connection, and it reminds us that we are all part of this human experience together.

Emboldened by the comments of supermarket strangers, I started to lean into this idea and truly became obsessed. Not only did I want to go bigger and bolder, but I wanted everyone else to also jump on-board this train.

My journal filled with circular shapes - crescent cartoon smiles and colourful rainbow curves. I became obsessed with circles. The way they take up space – a big, round shape on a rectangle page. My journal pages quickly filled with rainbow bubbles, glassy marbles and disco balls. When I slept I dreamt I was floating in a glossy, toffee bubble inside a honey jar. My heart was bursting with happiness and I felt I needed to impart this on the world, particularly at this time. I wanted to create something so silly it made people laugh. Something that took up a lot of space, and was impossible to ignore. Something so radically optimistic that it widened people’s eyes, and inspired childlike wonder.

Many journal entries later, I came up with the idea for this dress. I chose a really thick, bonded glitter fabric that was hard to work with but which sits up all on it's own. I spent entire days with my scissors and this fabric! I made her for you, who’s reading this. It was always meant for you. All I want to do is make you smile, and make the world a more sparkly place. As trivial and frivolous, and simplistic as that may sound - I really mean it. I’ve learnt that the small things are actually the big things: connecting with people is life-saving, art is essential, and making people smile is pretty much the most important thing there is.