Batik | Frivolous Universe

BATIK BOOGIE: Balinese batik, a Turkmen tea party, and the cure for the March ides

By: Kim Philley

10-04-2013

The FU Manchu ladies are back after a long winter’s nap! For three months we’ve been pigging on polenta fries and popping tags like Macklemore. But if you think not having a pot to piss in means looking bargain basement, think again.

Check out our YouTube for a peek at coming distractions from FU.

Nothing beats a tea party to cure me of a bad case of March ides. For this shoot I grabbed two bolts of my best Balinese batik and headed out to Eagle, Idaho, to meet Ms. Kelly Lynae on her favorite horse ranch.

And I’ll be damned if that girl doesn’t know her way around a safety pin! Kelly took my vintage batik swathes, procured from a tiny shop in Ubud, Bali, and swaddled the two of us in torqued elegance. I cast my bra aside because it’s April and time to let the minimalist fashion games begin.

This was the moment I decided to hell with scarves. I transformed the natty red scarf I’d been tortoising around all winter into a plunging halter top. Kelly styled me in thrift store belt and then we tried our hand at interpretive dance.

Why? Because we live in Idaho. Because I don’t own a TV or a salad spinner and most everything in the great Gem State, including entertainment, is DIY.

And here are the lessons I took from the long, harsh winter:

1) You will fail along the way to creating something new.

2) What other people think of you is none of your business.

3) Do what you love every day. The secret to any great performance, after all, is muscle memory.

vintage Indonesian batik from Ubud, Bali; cotton scarf-cum-halter: India; 100-year-old Turkmen necklace: Armor Bijoux

Photography by Kelly Lynae

Videography by Ned Evett

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IDAHO: A FAIRY TALE

By: Kim Philley

12-12-2012

Kim

For her there were only two times: dawn and dusk.

At dusk she would take her insomnia to the old post office. She was dead tired of striving and crisis! She wanted to live in the land of Blake-light and emptiness, of PO boxes stuffed with gold doubloons, of civic hallways in which only her footfalls echoed back.

For her, the illogic and moral relativism of fairy tales had long felt true to life. The bony witch is named Esmerelda. You will find a cat that will try and scratch your eyes out–you must give it some ham. You will find hounds that will try and eat your feet–you must feed them some rolls. Having her expectations upended is what kept her moving.

Forward, backward, under, over. She had been waiting her whole life for something good to happen from which there would be no turning back.

“The creative struggle, my heart to your cause,” his text message read.

Hands were both alien and sexy. She worried she could not focus on more than one thing. She could either sleep or await his letter.

The deep lines in her face were from looking away. Suddenly, they were getting shorter. When his letter arrived it wasn’t a letter at all but a wax cylinder. There were two short lyrics penned on the plain brown wrapper: “They blew on the wax while I was singing. They blew on it and my voice stayed.”

Photography by Bethany Walter

hand of Fatima necklace: Morocco; batik skirt: vintage 70s, Jakarta; cashmere tanktop: charity shop, London; ballet flats: J. Crew; gold ring: who knows

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ADDICTED TO SAMSARA

By: Kim Philley

21-11-2012

Kim

Leave it to the Welsh to have a word for it. Hiraeth: (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

In the sunset of dissolution, Kundera wrote, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.

It’s Thanksgiving week in the U.S., and many of us are homeward bound. We’re wrapping up work and boarding planes, trains, and borrowed cars–transmigrating worlds. Which is greater, Buddha asked, the tears you have shed while transmigrating and wandering this long, long time–crying and weeping from being joined with what is displeasing, being separated from what is pleasing–or the water of the four great oceans?

This is greater, Buddha answered, the tears you have shed while wandering on.

I’m still addicted to the wandering on, to samsara, to the world of fabrications. I stumbled upon this immaculate cashmere and wool coat in a Boise consignment store; when I saw it was lined in pale lavender silk with leather-cuffed arms long enough for Gumby, I had to have it.

I believe in warmth and style for the wayfaring–for the long commutes to the homes we cannot keep but are with us now.

fabulous photographer: Bethany Walter

Wool-cashmere blend coat with lavender silk lining: Liakes (Piece Unique consignment, Boise); jeans: Rich & Skinny (Fancy Pants, Boise); batik top: Anthropologie; Cece suede ballet flats: J. Crew; snakeskin belt: Bangkok vintage; jade earrings & jade ring: vintage

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BATIK BOOGIE: Balinese batik, a Turkmen tea party, and the cure for the March ides

IDAHO: A FAIRY TALE

ADDICTED TO SAMSARA

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