mad in pursuit journal
3.30.04 Paper dolls
I have been fooling around. I'd like to animate some figures that look like runway models posing. It must be the "Sex & the City" influence.
My great-grandfather and his sons were carpenters. On Saturdays they would crack open a bottle of whiskey and spend the morning making standard parts, like windows, that they could use in a variety of jobs.
My movies have a similarity to old-time carpentry, I guess. Sometimes I crack open a bag of M&Ms and spend a day or evening making elements or learning techniques that can be used for a variety of projects.
A sequence of show-off girls could come in handy.
I was going to draw little figures from models in a "Harpers Bazaar" that someone gave me. Then I decided to scan them into Photoshop, "extract" them from the background, and fill in the silhouettes. The extraction process requires me to paint all the edges of the model. It makes me concentrate on all the little details.
Suddenly I had the memory of playing with paper dolls. (It also makes me want to go on a diet, but that's another entry.)
I prized my paper dolls, especially after all the labor I had to put into cutting out their clothes. Once I had their clothes, I put the figures through elaborate gothic fantasies. I remember sitting in the living room of our Penrose apartment putting the Maguire Sisters through hell.
My interest in paper dolls lasted much longer than the average 1950s girl. This was because one of my girlfriends and I advanced from cutting out the packaged clothes to designing our own. We would browse through fashion magazines for designs, trace the doll's outline (with folding tabs), fill in our designs and color them with pencils. I loved it. If someone had given me the words fashion designer, I might never have stopped. But maybe the hand-drawn clothes were clumsy and awful… I don't remember getting encouragement from anyone and no trace of my creations remains.
But here I am, playing with paper dolls again.