How to Make a Dress by Jenny Packham

How to Make a Dress by Jenny Packham

Author:Jenny Packham [Packham, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473563827
Publisher: Ebury Publishing


EMBELLISHMENT

I’m not a minimalist designer, no one would say that. Embellishment has been an integral part of my creativity for three decades and is in the brand’s DNA. Looking back to when I started designing, I think I knew I had to find a way to get my work noticed, and so I began experimenting with texture. This attention-seeking ploy worked and I was hooked. I like classic, flattering shapes; I don’t try to change the silhouette of the female body because I like it the way it is. But by adding beadwork, embroidery and prints, I have been able to offer uniqueness in my work. When I started designing professionally, I found my resources in London were limited and I struggled to make the clothes I dreamt of. So, as soon as we had the funds to travel, we did, searching out experts in China and India. These early trips to the other side of the world opened up exciting new possibilities for surface design and transformed my collections.

It’s 6am and I’m on the Heathrow Express to Terminal 5. I haven’t spoken yet, it was a late night and I am on autopilot. I stare at the BBC newsfeed on the elevated screen in front of me and as the bulletin ends a new clip begins. We are in Jerusalem and a bearded man with a long white stick is crossing a street. He is blind and I watch as the camera follows him towards the Wailing Wall. He is swiping the stick from side to side, clearing a route for himself, and then he arrives, reaching out gently, exploring the wall’s craggy surface, running his fingers, as if reading Braille, over the folded prayers wedged between the ancient stones. I have no idea what he is experiencing but I try to imagine what it must be like to be so dependent on touch.

I sigh as I reflect on my thoughts earlier that morning. When the alarm woke me, I had buried my head in the pillow as the tiring realisation that tonight I would be in bed somewhere in New Delhi sank in. I was exhausted and I lay there inventing get-out plans. I glance at the TV screen again; the clip is ending and the man is walking into the distance, continuing his journey around the world. His determination to travel despite his disabilities instantly dissolves my self-pity and vivid memories of India come flooding back and I begin to feel excitement. Beautiful colours come swirling into frame, provoking remembered glimpses of fuchsia, emerald and amber silks scattered with golden paisleys, and as I pick up scents of sandalwood and jasmine I recapture the clichéd snapshots of mountains of burnt-orange turmeric on street stalls and handfuls of brightly coloured beads.

My love of travelling is no secret and I am indebted to my ancestors for my itchy feet. My grandfather Harold was an able seaman and most notably accompanied Sir Malcolm Campbell to the Cocos Islands in search of hidden treasure.



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