As a textile artist and fashion designer, materiality is an inevitable part of my work. I began this journey hoping to resolve a personal discomfort, and instead discovered an unexpected and moving world: a fantastical world.
For those who don’t know me, I work with fibers, fabrics, and other materials to bring new wearable and structural forms to life. The truth is that at a certain point in my practice, the idea of continuing to bring material into this world began to weigh on me—not only from an ecological perspective, but also on a mental level: the limit of creation is determined by the storage space I have in my studio. And that limit reached its limit.
More is more,
and sometimes is too much.
For years, I created pieces using reclaimed and natural materials, working with a zero-waste mindset and trying to feel good about myself for my methods, but knowing deep down that I was still contributing to this system of unrestrained consumption.
In my pursuit to solve this dilemma—and to innovate because I get bored easily—I came across alginate yarn: eco-friendly, sustainable, biodegradable. The idea of creating pieces that would eventually disappear caught my curiosity. That’s how my journey with biomaterials began.
At first, as a designer and fashion lover, the only—or the first—thing I wanted to make with this bio-thread was clothing. However, I learned very early on in my research that alginate isn’t ideal for this purpose for many reasons—no matter how much other biomaterial creators say otherwise.
I had no idea what I could use it for.
I tried to control it. For months, I experimented with formulas, textures, and colors. I studied the materials and their properties: their origin, their chemical composition, their manufacturing methods. Then I asked myself how I could give it a vibrant color because we already have enough browns and khakis. I experimented with pigments, read about color, its history, what it means on a social and personal level. I got surprised, I got angry, I got excited, I got frustrated. I went back and forth and from one side to the other several times. I tried to make sense of it. “If I can’t create expressive garments with this material, what am I doing then, and how come this polymer doesn’t meet my needs?” In addition, since this was a type of research that demanded structure (we’re dealing with formulas here—it’s chemistry), I somehow threw myself headfirst into that structure and got lost in a square box.
Until I let go.
This journal is a record of that process, filtered, of course. And recounted a bit later, once my mind had had time to process it all.
Here you’ll find experiments I’ve tried and discoveries that have led me to new ones. Thoughts. Findings. Results. Data, in short.
This research and experimentation project was made possible thanks to financial support from the Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec (CALQ)
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