The temple bell stops—
but the sound keeps coming
out of the flowers.
Bashô
鐘消えて
花の香はつく
夕かな
Robe couleur du temps, robe couleur de lune, robe couleur de soleil, Peau d'âne nous fit rêver de ces beautés immatérielles, mais une robe d'une étoffe aussi légère qu'un souffle d'air, teintée de l'esprit des fleurs qui eût pu l'imaginer ? Christina Kim la fondatrice de Dosa crée des vêtements uniques en khadi, coton tissé et teint à la main, aux formes inspirées de costumes vernaculaires d'Asie et d'Afrique, vestes de berger Rabari, kurtas, dashiki. Les couleurs sont travaillées avec une infinie justesse, plus de dix nuances de blanc empruntées à la céramique coréenne traditionnelle, le jaune souci, le rose indien de Myanmar utilisés pour leur vertu énergétique.
"Even if a person tries to be angry or aggressive in the presence of pink, he can't. The heart muscles can’t race fast enough. It’s a tranquilizing color that saps your energy. Even the color-blind are tranquilized by pink rooms."
Chaque pièce est le résultat d'une longue chaîne de synergie qui préserve les ressources organiques et humaines. Le développement durable n'est pas chez cette artiste une mode passagère mais le fruit d'un engagement au long cours, inscrit au coeur de sa sensibilité et de son histoire. Née dans la Corée d'après guerre, elle se souvient de son émerveillement d'enfant à regarder sa grand-mère repriser à l'infini le moindre bout de tissu.
"Even if a person tries to be angry or aggressive in the presence of pink, he can't. The heart muscles can’t race fast enough. It’s a tranquilizing color that saps your energy. Even the color-blind are tranquilized by pink rooms."
Chaque pièce est le résultat d'une longue chaîne de synergie qui préserve les ressources organiques et humaines. Le développement durable n'est pas chez cette artiste une mode passagère mais le fruit d'un engagement au long cours, inscrit au coeur de sa sensibilité et de son histoire. Née dans la Corée d'après guerre, elle se souvient de son émerveillement d'enfant à regarder sa grand-mère repriser à l'infini le moindre bout de tissu.
"I remember looking at my grandmother's traditional Korean socks with fondness and amazement as a girl of around four. The soles were patched with pieces of cotton cloth clipped from our bedding; I was intrigued by the way the different shades of white overlapped. My grandmother darned our clothing whenever it was needed, sitting with us while we did our homework, slipping socks over the light bulbs she used as a frame. Materials, things, had value, even a sock."*
Dyeing is an elemental process. Just a few items are required: water, petals, fabric, mordant when needed, a steamer. Each piece of cloth is prepared one at a time, often by two people working swiftly and seamlessly in unison. To create various textures, the petals, husks, and skins are used whole or pulverized, wet or dry. For Adiv’s “idli technique,” named after a popular Indian food item, fabric is layered with petals and neatly folded onto itself forming a small packet, like a parcel of food. Each packet is steamed for 30-40 minutes before it is unfolded, shaken free of petals, rinsed, and hung to dry. Occasionally, a petal or two will evade inspection and remain stuck to the fabric – a welcome sign of work done by human hands. The process produces a monoprint, where the petal’s shapes are transferred directly onto fabric leaving an imprint of color. Depending on weather and humidity, the same flower yields surprising dye variations of color and lushness.
Parfois le tissu retient un pétale qui ne s'est pas envolé lors de l'opération de rinçage et de séchage. Petit miracle de l'aléatoire qui signe le travail de la main de l'homme. Les couleurs varient d'un artisan à l'autre. La mémoire des fleurs et des mains qui les ont touchées contribuent à la création d'un vêtement d'une rare pureté au rayonnement singulier.
khādī or khadi (India) Indian cloth woven by hand using handspun fibers; India’s “fabric of freedom.” Traditionally, women spin the fibers and men weave on a simple treadle loom at home. Mahatma Gandhi promoted the production of khādī in his campaign for Swadeshi and the revival of indigenous goods during India’s independence movement. By spinning, weaving, and wearing their own cloth, Gandhi reasoned Indians could assert their economic independence and regain control of their textile industry from the British. It is the product of a humble profession, yet painstakingly made all by hand and therefore deserving of high value. At dosa, khādī is the basic language of weaving. We use khādī every season for its nuanced aesthetics, and because it is a labor-intensive rather than resource-intensive material. Christina visited her first khādīgram shop in India in 1996, loading her arms with stacks of assorted handwoven fabric. Over the years, dosa has used a mixture of this sort of off-the-shelf khādī in addition to custom khādī developed with weavers in Bengal. Our organic khādī shows variations in color, texture, and weave, which serve as small reminders of its handmade, natural state.
Rabari jacket (India) traditionally worn by male Rabari shepherds in Kutch, India; also known as a milkman’s jacket. A rabari jacket consists of a fitted bodice with loosely gathered pleats below. Silhouettes may vary, signifying different tribal identities based on placement of a waistline, volume or length of gathering, or back yoke. Traditionally, rabari jackets are shades of white and often embellished. The rabari jacket has inspired many dosa garments throughout the years.
