AN OCELOT WITH ITAJIME SPOTS
There is a rustle in the high grass. A flash of color darts by. You sense a powerful presence moving toward the clearing and suddenly it breaks free, leaping into sight with a smooth rush of purpose. It could be a wild cat or a dancer clad in Ocelot, the clothing line designed by Angelina DeAntonis. With its striking color palette and bold patterns of spots created with itajime dye-work, Ocelot clothing evokes images of wild animals and jungle insects. The body conforming drape of silk and wool fabrics reinforces the sensation of donning a second skin. While animals and insects have spots as biological markers, for humans they can serve as psychological markers. When I purchased my first Ocelot garment, I felt empowered by the bold markings. Like a mask, it became both a protective shield and a brazen banner, allowing me to experiment with a new external identity. Because of its powerful visual presence, the act of wearing Ocelot becomes an adventure in and of itself. Every eye observes as you pass but you are safe to enjoy the spectacle from within the shelter of the garment. Photographs by Angelina DeAntonis. Model Rebecca Williams.

A SLYLY SUBVERSIVE ARTIST
Nothing sums up Jana Brevick’s highly original and extraordinarily intelligent jewelry like her limited edition of Everchanging Rings. Made of pure gold, the rings look like they might have been unearthed during an archaeological dig of a lost civilization. The rings, always without gemstones or other added materials, appear to be simple bands of glittering, untarnished gold, roughly hammered and shaped by an ancient jeweler. Their seductive appeal is timeless. But the notion that Brevick’s Everchanging Rings are about history is only partly true. They are also about change, the future and the rarely articulated interaction between artist and collector. Not incidentally, the rings also make philosophical references to recycling, cultural values associated with precious materials and the willingness to let go of the old in order to embrace the new. Photographs by Douglas Yaple.

300 YEARS OF HISTORIC AND CONTEMPORARY COSTUME
It is astonishing to remember that what we regard as color is in fact a form of mirage. This is not something we keep in mind as color is so integral to our fundamental sense of reality. We think of it as almost a solid substance, a tangible material. So primary is color that it shapes our sense of dimensionality and locus, like Sycamore trees (green) in a San Diego field, a Southwest Airlines jet (blue, red, orange) landing in Cleveland, a Santiago Calatrava-designed museum (white) in Milwaukee, or a ravishing Vivienne Westwood dress (kaleidoscopic) moving through the environs of London. Color is such a beguiling state due to its intrinsic phantasmic quality, as it does not really exist but is based on how light waves refract off our eyes. What we actually see as color is a spectrum ranging between the two poles of black and white—white results from combining primary colors of light, and the absence of light results in black; black appears when primary color pigments are blended, and when there are no pigments, things appear white. But to visualize color, simply picture a rainbow, and there you have what is discernible: the luscious permutations that have come to be called: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Photographs courtesy of Smithsonian Cooper-Hewitt Design Museum.

WHEN THE MUSE COMES CALLING
Happiness and comfort inhabit the studio Vicki Eisenfeld maintains in West Hartford, Connecticut. There she spends hours in thought and fabrication, the two activities as intimately entwined as the weaving and marriage of metals techniques that form the foundation of her work. Eisenfeld believes in process, in experiment and exploration. She notes that in truth “you don’t even know you have reached a new stage in development until you’re there.” Back in the late 1980s and early 1990s she made big pieces, what she describes as “almost miniature sculptures.” They were joyous, exuberant brooches, bracelets and necklaces that resembled some of Albert Paley’s early jewelry (Ornament, Autumn 1991). At some point Eisenfeld realized she had to decide whether she was making jewelry or sculpture. She also recognized that her large pieces might not work for everyone. “You can make all the clothes in the world,” she muses, “but if they don’t fit, then what?” As an artist she had to deal with making something that worked on the body, but, as critically important, something that she wanted to make. Photographs by Robert Diamante.

THE PRIDE OF VEILING IN EGYPT AND NORTH EAST AFRICA
After having searched the Khan-el-Khalili bazaar in Cairo for a few hours, I find one of the objects I am looking for. The shiny, brass cylinder is lying in a basket, hidden by other ethnic silver jewelry. This strange-looking artifact with three concentric flat rings in the center, wound with metal wire, was once part of an antique face veil. The textile has decayed over the last century, but the cylinder remains. The store owner wants to trade it, but he assures me that it is a very rare object. “Not every foreigner appreciates the true value of this piece,” he says. And he is pleased to hear that I came all the way from Holland looking for it. This object is a remnant of Egypt’s traditional women’s dress. This piece was once part of a burka-veil and was worn on the nose, tied between the headband of the burka and the piece of textile covering the face and can be dated to the first quarter of the last century or the nineteenth century. Photographs by Bastiann J. Seldenthuis.