DosViolines
far from home...
- Joined
- Aug 21, 2005
- Messages
- 3,217
- Reaction score
- 12
Part 1/2
nytimesDouble Vision
By SUSAN MORGAN
Published: September 5, 2008
On a California summer afternoon, the industrial landscape of Sun Valley — a stretch of gravel pits and salvage yards next to the Golden State Freeway — seems to quiver against a backdrop of cloudless sky and the Verdugo Mountains on the smudged horizon. Here, deep within the Apex Electronics store, Laura and Kate Mulleavy are carefully excavating a hoard of insulated wires. “The Teflon-coated ones have the most intense colors,” Kate says as she uncoils several inches of blazing vermilion wire, a remnant from a local aerospace firm. Kate, 29, and Laura, 28, are sisters, artistic collaborators and partners in Rodarte, the three-year-old fashion label based in Los Angeles.
Rodarte (pronounced ro-DAR-tay) is a small, extraordinary gem of an enterprise. In 2005, to introduce themselves to the fashion world, the Mulleavy sisters sent out 30 handmade paper dolls, each with a paper armoire containing seven paper dresses. “I was inspired by Zelda Fitzgerald’s paper dolls,” explains Kate, who, like Fitzgerald, drew extensively accessorized wardrobes. The collection itself consisted of 10 meticulously hand-finished garments, including a pumpkin-colored silk cocktail dress with a lovely slouching silhouette and a black wool coat, cut in military style and ingeniously detailed with pheasant feathers and organza inserts. Pieces like these are as skillfully constructed as haute couture (a single gown can require 100 hours of work) but much of it is presented as ready to wear. That first season, their clothes were modestly priced from $2,000 to $3,000. Less than a year later, a whispery yellow silk chiffon evening dress — a pale undulating cascade of tiny pleats and voluptuous, handcrafted rosettes, from the fall/winter collection — was reported to have sold for nearly $20,000. It is now in the permanent collection of the Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Institute.
The phenomenon of fashion-designing sisters is not new, but it’s extremely rare. During the early 20th century in Paris, the Callot Soeurs were known for their elaborate, diaphanous gowns — weightless dreams of dresses with gauzy layers shot through with metallic threads and faceted crystals that played with the light. Now, in the early 21st century in Los Angeles, it is the Mulleavy sisters who are spinning light, movement and color into astonishing clothes. In a recent fashion spread, the model Coco Rocha is photographed wearing Rodarte; she appears as a jubilant pink fairy, her dress a tattered rainbow shadowed with soft tufts of mohair fog.
The Mulleavy sisters — with their pale complexions and dark gleaming hair — are striking, unselfconscious beauties. These are faces reminiscent of Courbet’s “Jo, La Belle Irlandaise” or those genteel friends photographed by Lady Clementina Hawarden in the mid-19th century. Rodarte is their mother’s maiden name. Their maternal grandfather, an inventor and self-taught aeronautical engineer, left Zacatecas after the Mexican Revolution and traveled to Los Angeles by stagecoach. (In Pasadena, where Kate and Laura still live with their parents, one of their favorite restaurants is housed in a 1909 craftsman bungalow — the very place their grandfather once worked as a roving musician.) Although an anachronistic aura does seem to hover around the Mulleavy sisters, there’s actually very little about them that’s old-fashioned; even their good manners aren’t quaint. They eschew “frocks,” including those they make, and dress practically like studio artists in gray T-shirts (“Hanes three-pack from Target”) and New Balance sneakers. “We are not Chanel,” Kate says. “We don’t have millionaire boyfriends and yachts.”
The start-up money for this altogether sui generis business venture came from the sisters themselves: Kate sold her record collection, 15 cartons crammed with a dizzying amount of carefully selected music ranging from a deluxe, illustrated version of Walt Disney’s Snow White to a mint vinyl first pressing of an early Black Sabbath album; and Laura worked as a waitress until a little over a year ago.
The Rodarte way of thinking is wonderfully unconstricted by eras or trends. The Mulleavy sisters are gifted and indefatigable cultural hunter-gatherers; their exquisite clothing, fearlessly imagined and precisely constructed, attests to their voracious curiosity and constant discernment. They might be thinking about Rolling Thunder’s Memorial Day Weekend Motorcycle Rally, when 400,000 U.S. military veterans and their friends roar onto the National Mall; or they might be looking at the “Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death,” Frances Lee Glessner’s miniature forensic crime scenes from the 1940s. Or, you could come across them pondering the fate of the soon-to-be-discontinued “eosin pink,” a color derived from fluorescent red dye named for Eos, the goddess of dawn and commonly used in laboratory procedures. The wires they’re holding now are going to be used as part of the shoes for their new collection. “But first, we needed to figure out whether they could be sewn or soldered,” Laura explains. She strips back the extruded wire’s polymer coating and reveals its lustrous silver core. “Amazing,” she says.
The Rodarte spring ’09 collection will be presented Tuesday at the Gagosian Gallery on 21st Street in Chelsea. “We’d been thinking about an idea of the future and what gets left behind,” Laura says, citing a free-range list of inspirations: earth art of the 1960s and ’70s and Robert Smithson’s displaced mirrors reflecting and fracturing the natural world; Nancy Holt’s “Sun Tunnels,” four industrial concrete tubes punctured with holes in the patterns of constellations, in a remote Utah field; and the 2001 cult film “Donnie Darko.”