by Sheila Heti
LUCY: You’d notice if it were greasy, because I’ve had a problem with greasy my entire life.
LEANNE: Having very dry hair, I envy people with greasy hair.
LUCY: But you’ve got so much volume!
LEANNE: That’s what I hate, no control whatsoever. I love the idea of hair being close to your head, or when you can see the shape of a woman’s skull.
LUCY: I’m obsessed with hair. If I go to the opera, I look at people’s hair and I give them marks. I go, “Oh, she should have that much off, or She’s definitely been to the hairdresser this morning.” And I get really bad hair envy. Oh my god, I envy my cousin’s daughter’s hair. She’s probably twelve. She’s got russet Pre-Raphaelite hair. Bunches of it. Ohhhhhhh God. I would love to be able to lie in bed naked with my hair covering my bosoms and going down between my legs. The feeling of having really long hair on bare skin must be so amazing.
LEANNE: Do you dress for men or women?
LUCY: Oh, definitely for women. About six months ago, I was getting up and I saw my wedding dress in its box and I thought it would be fun to try it on. So I put it on and I went into the kitchen to make breakfast and I thought, He’s going to say something in a minute, and he didn’t notice. So from my point of view, dressing for men is completely pointless. I think most men don’t want the person they love to stick out or be noticed, they’re uncomfortable with that. But I would say I dress for other women in order for them see that they better not try and come get my man, because I’m just as attractive as they are. Like, recognize me and don’t mess with my man. I’ve got moon in Scorpio, and I don’t like other women going near my man or flirting with him and stuff, and considering he spends his entire time in a nightclub, I’m under quite a lot of pressure. I’m joking, but yeah, there’s an element of that.
LEANNE: How do you shop?
LUCY: I have to be in the right mood, but I don’t really need more clothes. I’ve got loads, so it’s dangerous for me to go into a shop because I could get overexcited and blow a lot on something I don’t need. It’d be pure extravagance and self-indulgence. I find there’s far too much fashion everywhere, and I don’t know whether that’s the reality of the situation or if I’ve been around that scene for so long, but it seems to have become very obsessive and has invaded so many areas of life it wasn’t ever part of. I get to the point where I don’t even want to know about it—take it away!
LEANNE: When did you go from shopping in vintage markets to buying designer clothes?
LUCY: I didn’t have money to buy expensive clothes until I started going out with Bryan [Ferry], and he was very generous and took me shopping and gave me money to buy the things I wouldn’t have been able to afford. Unfortunately what I wanted to wear at the time, in the ’80s, was Comme des Garçons, black things with holes, and Bryan would say, “Why are you wearing those widow’s weeds?” Very expensive widow’s weeds was not his idea of what he wanted me to wear at all.
PROJECT
PLASTIC BASKETS | JOSH BLACKWELL
Cut, collaged, and hand-embroidered discarded plastic shopping bags found on the streets of New York City.
COLLECTION
MARY MANN’s floss sticks used over the course of one week
POEM
whatever closeness you felt was based solely on the assumption that everything he expressed was an accurate representation of something his brain produced within the privacy of his own skull and surrounding skin
MIRA GONZALEZ
arrive in a new city with a suitcase full of oversized sweaters
and allow the outside world to establish control of your youth
say, “motion is only possible by displacement,” then,
know that everything is moving apart slowly,
one second at a time, forever
each second we forget another second
that night in mid-July, our cabdriver told us,
was the hottest night in three years
I didn’t mention that my stockings were full of pebbles,
or that you had torn a hole in my floral dress
when you pushed my face against that wall in your closet
and promised there was something more for me
I became capable of existing as one thing
but simultaneously being nothing particular
this was the month we gave up on doing laundry
and stopped allowing thoughts to control our emotions
how can they say the relationship was doomed to fail?
I could feel love fading out of you
like the barely visible sweat stains on my black cotton shirt
but even then, there was too much restraint
I will consider our relationship beautiful in terms of distance
years from now I will tell myself I am thankful,
for the time you spent, for giving me the opportunity
for the beer stains on my favorite yellow coat
and for the bloodstains on your sheets
now we have learned to live with the burden
of being somehow in the aftermath of events
that never occurred in our own lives
when I am alone I wear your clothes
and allow you to die, gracefully
despite the inescapable knowledge that we don’t want to feel better
CONVERSATION
PUT ON A TUX AND GO
CHOREOGRAPHER/DANCER MONICA BILL BARNES & DANCER ANNA BASS SPEAK TO LEANNE SHAPTON & HEIDI JULAVITS ABOUT THEIR COSTUMES
SUDDENLY SUMMER SOMEWHERE
(linen dresses, vintage overcoats)
ANNA: One of the first visual inspirations for these costumes was—what is the sculptor’s name?
MONICA: Ron Mueck. We really wanted to be able to shift from male to female, imagery-wise. We wanted our figures to be masked in the boxy shape of the coats.
ANNA: He did an exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum of all of these lifelike sculptures of varying sizes.
MONICA: Incredibly lifelike.
ANNA: Super-detailed. And there were these two old ladies in housecoats.
MONICA: I was so affected by the entire exhibit, and I just loved these two women. By their proximity to each other it was clear that they were incredibly intimate. They aren’t looking at each other, and it was fascinating to think, God, you get to that point where you’ve spent so much time with somebody that you actually don’t need to look them in the eye. And it mimics something Anna and I do a lot in rehearsal, where we don’t actually square off and face each other. We spend a lot of time. . . .
ANNA: . . . just feeling each other. And actually, this is funny, smelling each other, too. All of our costumes have been previously owned.
HEIDI: So they smell like other people’s perfumes, or body odors?
ANNA: Both. They’re heat-activated.
MONICA: One of the reasons the costume designer, Kelly Hanson, is drawn toward pre-owned clothing instead of building new costumes is that she is always costuming us to look like real people and real people seldom have clothes that fit perfectly. There is always something a little off or unique that tells you who that person is.
LEANNE: Do you take the coats off during the performance?
MONICA: At the very end I take my coat off and put it on the ground in an old-fashioned gesture, the way men used to do over puddles, which actually seems like the most ridiculous thing you would ever do. Like, wouldn’t you just step over the puddle? Would you actually drench your own coat?
HEIDI: And what do you do afterward? Do you pick it up and put it back on?
LEANNE: Leave it there for other women.
HEIDI: When you come up with a dance, are you already thinking about the costumes?
MONICA: Kelly is a part of the conversation from the very beginning. Kelly will watch us and say, “I wonder what they would look like in a sequined dress,” or “How about we try that dance on a dining room table?” We have been working together for so long at this point. The conv
ersation started fifteen years ago and it has never really stopped.
MOSTLY FANFARE
(feather headdresses, white feminine undershirts, black wool skirts)
MONICA: Some of the inspiration came from silent movies. Kelly and I loved the idea of headdresses, but we wanted to counter the image of showgirls, so she took all the color out of these costumes. The costumes are always referring to something that the audience is familiar with. Also, we are always looking at costumes, and one of the first questions is: Is there any way this is coming across as sexy? and then, How can we strip that?
LEANNE: I want to hear about the rejection of “dancer sexy.”
ANNA: We grew up doing tap-dance, ballet. I remember one of my tap costumes, it was a high-cut red leotard. And it had a tie. My mom was like, “I’m not sure who picked this, but we’re gonna have to pull that leotard down.” That was my one sexy moment. Twelve years old. Haven’t had one since.
HEIDI: You’re never as sexy as you are at twelve. So at what point did you guys decide that you were against that variety of sexy?
MONICA: There’s something you figure out early about the way you’re being perceived. As soon as somebody finds you attractive, you immediately think: You’re not totally paying attention.
HEIDI: You lose respect for them?
MONICA: Not exactly. It’s just that there is nothing surprising about a pretty woman, it is such a known entity. In that sense, you’re unoriginal. And you’re not funny. That was the other key: in movement terms, it’s hard to be attractive and funny. There’s just a way in which those two physical impulses counter each other, because there is an inherent grace to beauty, and humor requires a certain force, a physical force. You can’t physically be lackadaisically funny. To be funny you have to be quick, twitchy.
LEANNE: That’s fascinating.
HEIDI: Fascinating and also sort of depressing.
LEANNE: Maybe when an audience is seduced by beauty, something switches off, and the performer doesn’t have the same kind of attention.
MONICA: As soon as you present yourself as really pretty onstage, you lose a certain amount of power. You’re safer. You’re admired. And then people feel comfortable with you.
ANNA: They know who that is.
HEIDI: Right. I wonder if age isn’t somehow coming into this decision-making process, because that kind of beauty and that kind of sexiness have such a shelf life, but humor doesn’t.
ANNA: Yeah. Dance has a very narrow, very small shelf life. We’ve already expired, but we’re still going.
MONICA: (laughs) Also we’re both small, and to have a physical impact we have to be aggressive. One thing both of us have done all our dancing lives is try to be bigger. Honestly, that was the original inspiration for wanting to wear a headdress—I wanted to be taller.
I FEEL LIKE
(wool turtleneck sweaters, brooches, plaid wool skirts)
HEIDI: I feel like this costume needs so much unpacking, because you are playing to a sexy stereotype here, right? Yet the brooch is saying: grandmother.
MONICA: If this costume fit better or the skirt was shorter, it would look like a Catholic school uniform. We are always struggling against these costumes, like the moment where we pull our thick turtlenecks down to lick our shoulders. Kelly and I always discuss the underwear at length. For this duet, it is really important that the underwear is black and substantial, so when you see any of it you’re like, “Oh my god, they’re in big black underwear.” Somehow what we’re wearing underneath is the least sexy thing that could be there.
LEANNE: Do you rehearse in leotards, pink tights, you know what I mean?
MONICA: No, we do not. I’ve never seen Anna in pink, ever.
LEANNE: Is it track pants and tank tops?
MONICA: Yeah. And the worst part is, you’re looking at yourself so often.
ANNA: That’s how we’ve spent our entire lives. Looking at ourselves in the mirror. We will try to spice it up a bit. I started cutting a small V-neck in the men’s undershirts I always wear.
MONICA: But it is pretty hopeless. I mean, our hair is matted and sweaty and all our rehearsal clothes are worn-out. I will put lipstick on if it gets really bad.
ANNA: We actually use lipstick as a “You know what we need?”
MONICA: We will have breaks when we just walk away and put lipstick on.
HEIDI: I completely understand. Recently I had to Skype with someone, and I was nervous about Skyping with them, so I put on perfume. But back to the wool skirt/sweater. It seems to me that the dance came about with the costume. From the costume we expect you to behave one way, but then you behave this other way.
MONICA: I feel the relationship is cyclical, like the dance informs the costume and then the costume informs the dance and that goes on forever until we premiere the dance. The audience is so profoundly influenced by what we are wearing; so much of the humor is in the costume design, which allows the audience to see the humor in the dance. It’s amazing how funny clothes can be.
LUSTER
(vintage-inspired sequined dresses, running shoes, purses)
LEANNE: Okay, let’s talk about the sequined dresses. . . .
MONICA: This is going to be a sad statement. Those were the most attractive things we’ve ever worn. They’re beautiful. They were actually made for us. All the bad smells are our own.
ANNA: We loved the way it looked under stage lights, and Kelly really loved that it felt like a layer of armor. And the running shoes are key. They undercut the sequins.
LEANNE: There’s also that female stereotype of the woman wearing her tennis shoes commuting in her work clothes.
MONICA: We’re the exact reverse of that stereotype, we dress up for our commute and then change into our dingy rehearsal clothes when we get to “work.” I mean, I only get to wear my outfit for the subway ride and the walk to rehearsal, then I have to take it all off.
HEIDI: So you need a tear-away outfit.
ANNA: Yes. That would save us hours of time. Sometimes I feel, Why am I even bothering wearing real clothes?
LEANNE: Who are you in those two hours?
MONICA: The good news is that we can get at least two or three days’ use of one outfit, because it is only on our bodies for a few hours each day. So we save money on laundry.
ANNA: Yes! And if it is a day that we have to have a business dinner or a gala event, then we have our “fancy” outfits all balled up in the bottom of our bags.
HEIDI: So what do you wear for those events?
ANNA: Tight pants and a top with a little edge.
LEANNE: But not a dress.
ANNA: Very rarely.
MONICA: We were just at a gala event and I wore really thick and wide-legged wool pants and a turtleneck and a scarf, and I somehow thought it was gonna look classy. And then I just felt like I was buried in wool, which is funny because many of our costumes are wool.
HEIDI: So you always carry a wardrobe of clothes around?
MONICA: Carrying things around is just a central part of our artistic life, whether we are on tour or not. And then that part of our life ends up being in the dances. In “Luster,” we carry a six-foot-tall proscenium set around and I was like, I love the idea that we are carrying our own stage around wherever we go, it’s just like our real lives, but it turns out that lugging that fifty-pound stage is not fun. So I feel responsible for causing us a certain amount of suffering.
ANNA: Yeah, but dancers are a hardy bunch.
EVERYTHING IS GETTING BETTER ALL THE TIME
(men’s rip-away suits, sleeveless undershirts, wool athletic shorts)
MONICA: These are men’s three-piece suits that are tricked out to rip away in one motion—like the Chippendale tear-away. We rip them in the middle of the dance, and underneath we’re wearing old-fashioned boxing shorts, like you’d wear in gym class in 1972. They’re itchy, they’re thick—
ANNA: The crotch is too high.
MONICA: And we use batons. It’s the most
ridiculous piece, but also one of the edgiest things I’ve ever made, because I’m dealing with entertainment in such a gross way. It’s aggressively—
ANNA: Aggressive entertainment.
MONICA: Kelly said, “I think we should try it in men’s suits, but not like you are wearing your dads’ suits, but like you are in the Midwest at a conference for insurance and you’re going to the hotel bar for a night.” I feel like I am this particular guy who is wearing his favorite suit.
LEANNE: What do you notice when you look at men and women on the street?
HEIDI: Do you pick up movements?
ANNA: I rarely look at women. I look at men a lot.
HEIDI: That’s so interesting! I never look at men. Do you?
LEANNE: I look at both.
MONICA: I look at both. Also, kids are really fascinating movers. I’ve spent a lot of time watching people dancing at weddings. My dad is a minister, so I went to a lot of weddings growing up. Some of the choreography for this dance came from watching people dance at weddings. Social dancing looks funny in formal clothes. I feel like we’re gonna be in suits again soon.
HEIDI: And then, after the show, you dig out your fancy outfit from the bottom of your bag. Is that hard?
MONICA: Sometimes.
HEIDI: It seems weird, like expecting a professional swimmer to get out of the pool and put on a tux and go.
ANNA: It’s fascinating to switch from performer to human being after a show.
MONICA: Not to mention that you’ve been sweating buckets for hours and your hair is hairsprayed into a helmet.
ANNA: Then we’re like, “You know what we need? Earrings.” We both have earrings in our bags.
MONICA: Emergency earrings.
ANNA: And lipstick.
COLLECTION
