Miguel Adrover (American, born Spain, 1965). Coat and Skirt Ensemble with Vintage Fendi Scarf, fall/winter 2000–1. Coat: blue and white striped cotton twill mattress ticking. Skirt: beige and white striped cotton twill. Scarf: ivory silk with allover double interlocked “F” logo print, navy band trim, and burgundy tie-dyed pattern. Gift of Miguel Adrover, 2005 (2005.44.1a–c).
This design from Miguel Adrover’s second collection was described by Cathy Horyn of The New York Times as “a simple but respectable Sunday-going-to-church outfit out of a Willa Cather story.” Its faded, dusty colors and worn surface made Horyn’s reference especially apt. However, the ensemble took on other evocative connotations—either macabre or poignant depending on one’s point of view—when Adrover noted that the fabric was taken from the discarded mattress of the late Quentin Crisp. The designer’s salvaging of this piece of urban detritus, with its forlorn history of wear and rusty stains, and transforming it into a tailored coat was less recycling than poetic reinvention. Like Martin Margiela, Adrover incorporates the Dadaist strategy of unexpected recontextualizations. In this instance, a classically tailored coat is invested with the resonance of a very public person’s intensely personal history.
At the time the homeless had no ticking, Giuliani kicked it out of the shelters. Like England kicked out Quentin Crisp for the way he was; but I [heart] NY gave him a mattress. A mattress like the one I am now consulting (over) and writing from, remembering . . . a f[—]ing freezing night on Third Street between First and Second Avenue covered by a thin layer of snow. He was lying down on the sidewalk, the bodiless mattress. But with a lot of knowledge, the knowledge of sharing someone’s dream of freedom, something priceless, like the ticking fabric that I was lucky to rescue from conventionalism, trying to bring some light to the memory of my once neighbor.
—Miguel Adrover
February 7, 2008 at 9:59 am
The mattress ticking’s beautiful tailoring is a tribute to Quentin Crisp, especially with the silk scarf which Crisp made such a personal accessory, albeit in brighter colors. The raggedness of the underskirt tells the back story that can’t quite be kept in the dark.
Was he kicked out of England, or did things just get too hot for him there, or did he just decide to move to New York? I had always thought the last.
I don’t see what this has to do with “Sunday going-to-church” outfits if one knows where the fabric came from.
February 7, 2008 at 1:06 pm
‘The designer’s salvaging of this piece of urban detritus, …wear and rusty stains… transforming it into a tailored coat, was less recycling than poetic reinvention…’ Poetic reinvention is the key concept here.
‘The coat is invested with the resonance of a very public person’s intensely personal history.’
Resonance is a key concept as well, as what is not there, or what is not said, in this case, is as important as what is there. I was deeply moved by this piece, when I saw it at the press preview.
I don’t see what this has to do with “Sunday going-to-church” outfits if one knows where the fabric came from.’
I could not agree with you more!
My take on it is that the journalist, who wrote the critique did not want to be moved by this extraordinary idea.This choice of words perhaps implies that the activity on that mattress was incongruent with going to church, or that the coat is as plain and harmless as going to church. What did she expect the outcome to be? Perhaps a collage with vials full of semen? Damned if you do: Costin, Damned if you don’t: Adrover. Enough already.
Evocative, poignant connotations and poetic reinvention resonate with a very rich inter-textuality with unexpected recontextualizations.
February 7, 2008 at 1:30 pm
‘…a f[—]ing freezing night on Third Street between First and Second Avenue covered by a thin layer of snow. He was lying down on the sidewalk, the bodiless mattress. But with a lot of knowledge, the knowledge of sharing someone’s dream of freedom, something priceless, like the ticking fabric that I was lucky to rescue from conventionalism, trying to bring some light to the memory of my once neighbor.’
Notice how the mattress is ‘he’ not “it’.
The mattress/ body is covered by a thin layer of snow.
What a beautiful image.
‘ freezing night ‘ Death itself?
‘…like the ticking fabric that I was lucky to rescue from conventionalism,…:
This is precisely what the journalist from The New York Times did not want to acknowledge.
‘a f[—]ing freezing night …’ was too much for her.
February 7, 2008 at 6:40 pm
It would be great if some attractive lady were to use this fine piece of tailoring for a
Sunday to go to church or even for brunch for that matter. Anything less might be totally unobservant to those that defy taste before character.
February 8, 2008 at 11:25 am
This tiny picture is so unappealing. It looks like nothing to me. I desperately wish I could get a closer look. I should have gone to the exhibit while I was in NY. Laurie and Marina, you make it sound so glamorous!
February 8, 2008 at 1:04 pm
Oh, yes, Marina, the mattress as “he” covered with that thin layer of snow. That was heartbreaking. It evokes a shroud–”death itself”–but not a carefully prepared one, but an accidental one, on a thrown away corpse.
Well, Krista Beth, you’ll just have to get here again! The pictures are not only tiny, but low-res. and I even paid a second visit to the museum to examine things when my memories for the details were not triggered by the pictures.
To return to the image above, mattress as he, there’s also the mattress as repository of the person’s shape, smell, stains, so it’s almost a ghost.
February 9, 2008 at 10:53 am
it has so much meaning. I remember bringing my dad to the exhibit. he thought this was genius, not so much for the gowns.
February 9, 2008 at 4:43 pm
Fashion is always a comment on our times, a reflection of our times - but to see a poetic memorial that is so elegant is thrilling. Thank you Miguel Androver, it’s my favorite thing at the Met, the whole Met, today.
February 10, 2008 at 2:21 pm
‘Fashion is always a comment on our times, a reflection of our times - but to see a poetic memorial that is so elegant is thrilling. Thank you Miguel Androver, it’s my favorite thing at the Met, the whole Met, today.’
I was deeply moved by your words!
‘…poetic memorial’
‘… the whole Met, today.’…
So well put.
Sometimes hyperbole is necessary in order to make a point.
‘…today…’
I could not agree with you more!
Bravo, bravissima, viva Maria!
February 11, 2008 at 5:33 pm
‘it has so much meaning. I remember bringing my dad to the exhibit. he thought this was genius, …”
I am very impressed with your dad, he must be a genius!
You are very lucky.
February 17, 2008 at 2:40 pm
i think this is a really cool dress.
it’s modern and unique.
i would wear it!
February 21, 2008 at 3:01 pm
The coat and skirt is pretty. The colors match and I would wear it. It’s pretty.
February 23, 2008 at 11:51 am
When will people learn that the homeless are not going away. They are our former neighbors, the children that our children go to school with, former soldiers that have sacrificed for your country. Fashion has always been about freedom of expression. Thankfully, some choose to use it to bring our attention to our own society. This is an important and poignant piece.
February 24, 2008 at 2:10 pm
‘Thankfully, some choose to use it to bring our attention to our own society. This is an important and poignant piece.’
I could not agree more!
The fabric was recycled from the discarded mattress of the late Quentin Crisp, who was not homeless in a literal sense, but certainly in many other ways. This coat is a poignant, poetic memorial:
‘He was lying down on the sidewalk, the bodiless mattress. But with a lot of knowledge, the knowledge of sharing someone’s dream of freedom, something priceless, like the ticking fabric that I was lucky to rescue from conventionalism, trying to bring some light to the memory of my once neighbor.’
Notice that the mattress is not ‘it’, but ‘he’: the bodiless mattress, with the implied presence of the absent body.
February 29, 2008 at 7:41 pm
I live in Quentin’s former apartment building in the East Village and was pleasantly surprised to see this memento of Quentin Crisp, a great, if a little acerbic, gay icon…
March 1, 2008 at 4:43 pm
Loved the whole exhibit! Very fashion-forward and yet elegantly classic in most of the designs! Brilliant. Thanks again!
March 2, 2008 at 1:39 pm
‘I live in Quentin’s former apartment building in the East Village and was pleasantly surprised to see this memento of Quentin Crisp, a great, if a little acerbic, gay icon…’
Acerbity can be a great quality. Often reflects sharpness and great humor.
March 21, 2008 at 2:24 pm
I chose this during the exhibit as my favorite and then almost missed it on this site because of the poor picture quality. Without the back story, this is an outfit that captures your attention. With the back story, this captures your imagination. With all the preshrunk, preworn, prewashed, predistressed in fashion these days, what a creative idea to use fabric that got this look the natural (and somewhat disturbing) way!
Enjoyed the show….especially the writeups - so intriguing.
March 21, 2008 at 6:41 pm
The design in this makes it beautiful and it makes a statement at the same time. I love the idea and i find it very beautiful in its own way.
March 22, 2008 at 1:33 pm
I’m four years old and I liked the clothes here. I really liked the floral print.
April 13, 2008 at 12:43 am
The classically tailored coat became a poignant, ‘poetic reinvention’,
a ‘poetic memorial’, bringing light to the memory of this public person’s history, at the same time, bringing light to what is not there, to what is not said, to what is latent, to what is only implied.