My Life with Scarves, Part I

I have searched our entire 700 sq. foot space and cannot find my childhood scrapbook, so I can only conclude that it grew legs and walked out. But imagine if you will, the vintage scarf pictured in the banner, tied over the head and under the chin of the small hula-hooper on the right. You've just pictured my first appearance with a scarf, or kerchief, as we called them then.   

Notice that I also mixed plaids and flowers . . . I was a trend-setter even at such an early age. But, still as the oldest child, I was not the "power-seeker" type referenced in a brilliant article I found last week in Fortune, written by Nancy Deihl, Director of MA Program in Costume Studies at NYU. The article, Are scarves the new 'power' accessory for women?, takes a comment from the BBC about the seemingly "simple form of adornment" and explains the long history of scarves as a prestigious symbol for women. I was just a girl whose Mom (who also wore a kerchief) wanted to keep her ears warm during chilly weather.

The subject of scarves and their popularity or not, is of the utmost importance to me at this point in my life: I have just launched my newest collection of silk story scarves. And, the question I am asked most frequently is, "Why scarves?"

I could be flip and reply, "Why not," but my love of fabric, photography, and storytelling goes way back. The vintage scarf you see above is just one of the many that have come and gone from my closet. I've worn them around my head, around my purse straps, and around my waist in lieu of a belt.

And as far as my photography and storytelling, that's been going on for over 40 years. As my photography skills developed (pun intended), the stories about the pictures took on an added urgency. You see, I photograph and photocollage images of my family's military background as a way of visualizing and then expressing my feelings and stories about family, war, unintended consequences, and travel - issues I have found that touch many lives.

So what first started out as printing flowers and cemeteries (every burgeoning photographer photographs cemeteries) on photo paper slowly morphed into combining text and images to create something new all together. That meant looking for new ways to print.

And then I considered silk as a medium. As for the rest . . . Part II next week.

Ms. Deihl's article first appeared in The Conversation with the title, A scarf can mean many things - but above all, prestige.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

I am not a gardener in any sense of the word. When my husband comes back from being out of town, he doesn't bother to ask if I've watered the plants - he just grabs the water bucket and does it - first thing. I forget we have plants, although I like them.

So why, you ask, do I have a photograph of begonias on this post? First off, I'm thinking about creating a series of begonia images to transfer onto silk for scarves and custom fabrics. Second, I love begonias - I LOVE them. I cannot go past a begonia plant without sinking into a warm pool of 6th grade memories. Yeah, 6th grade.

Our family had just moved from England to Bad Kreuznach, Germany - undoubtedly one of the smaller military bases in Europe. I was in a new school with American kids (in England I had attended an all girls British public school), I was a crossing guard (power!), and I was a Girl Scout!

In Germany, we didn't sell Girl Scout cookies; we sold Girl Scout calendars - I know what you're thinking, but each month was a picture of a happy Scout doing happy Scout things - this was the 60s afterall. The other thing we did was earn merit badges. I was a badge hog; if there was a badge, I wanted it for my sash. And wouldn't you know? There was a merit badge for gardening.

Living in military housing doesn't give you much of a chance to garden. Our intrepid Scout leader decided we should help beautify the elementary school I attended. And by beautify, she meant, repotting 6,000 begonia plants into big round clay planters. Yes, you heard me, 6,000. And for some reason it was fun!

Was it the comraderie? Probably that was some of it. Was it the promise of the merit badge reward? Surely. But I think it was probably the first time I'd gotten my hands onto a live plant. Not only were they brilliant in color, but at the end of the weekend, I got to step back and see . . . a sea of begonias, that I had helped create.

I went back to that small town last fall; the military base has been closed for years, and many of the buildings have either been left to decay or have been retrofitted. My elementary school is now a place where special needs kids go to learn. As you see from the photo below, there aren't any begonias left - not even much grass. But that doesn't erase from my sense memory the experience. And if you look closely, you'll see begonias around my neck.

War & Nature: Bataan Shadows

At Mile 15 in last year's Bataan Memorial Death March, you came to walk beside me. I could see faint images of you on either side of me. The only sound, however, was that of my feet on the dusty rocky trail at White Sands Missile Range.

You only stayed a moment, but after you left, the bending bowing cactus and pinon accompanied me. They lined the road much as the Filipino women and children must have done over 70 years ago - trying to provide food and water.

I wanted pictures of you to take as a blessed remembrance, but (ironically) for me, had no camera.

This year, once again, as the soldiers left me, you appeared and I was able to capture your presence. Thank you for being there.

This scarf is a limited edition of 15. This is the original image; the actual silk piece may vary in color due to fabric and dyes. Please see this and other scarves at my Shop.