The Dog Days of summer are here, and it’s very hard — with working from home, universal WiFi, and vacation schedules — to tell who is actually working when. And where. I myself took a few days respite at Rehoboth Beach (proclaimed as vacation) and didn’t even open the laptop (either of the laptops, work and personal) that I brought with me. It was so nice. I haven’t been able to avoid work on a vacation for years.*
I am celebrating the close of summer by especially dressing down, as there aren’t many people around to witness it.
You’ve seen these all of these pieces before: Marni pleated top, Prana action slacks, cheap Skecher sportsandals.
But even in an almost empty office building at the end of August, The Directrice is holding up her side of the social contract.
I sent a photo — a proof of sorts — to a colleague who is working remotely in the Blue Ridge Mountains and therefore was not available for our standing Wednesday tete-a-tete.
She asked, “Is that . . . a jewelry cane?”
Non. But I like her open-mindedness.
Just trying to keep people engaged.
Allow me to posit: The art of jewelry is the imagination and craft behind a piece. Not the value of the materials. This artist, Seth Damm, works in rope, which he hand-dyes and fashions into sculptural shapes. This particular necklace is one of his more conventional designs. I love everything about it.
You may wonder why I am provoking the good folk of Washington D.C. (and unsuspecting tourists) with avant garde jewelry.
I’m doing it for them. And for us.
The Photographer greets most of my sartorial adventures with delight or amusement. This one, in the first instance, drew a completely blank face. I literally blew his mind. A first!
As he struggled to comprehend the necklace, to interpret it — he reached for history and placed it in Ancient Egypt.
Good eye, Photographer. This shape, and the stripes, do recall an Egyptian pharaoh.
I do feel a certain power when I am wearing this necklace.
Come closer and appreciate the shape, the colors, and hardware. The ends of the necklace are finished like pom-poms. Sawed-off pom-poms.
I don’t even have the words to explain this, but here you can see how the artist has allowed a skein to show . . . and then it disappears like magic.
Seth Damm’s work is available on his website, Neon Zinn, and at Vetri in Seattle, Washington.
*I did a little work on my iPhone.
+ Is no one laughing at the thought of a dress shop called The Crook and Flail? It’s a terrible name for a dress shop. It is a reasonable name for a bar and calls to mind The Cask ‘n Flagon opposite Fenway Park.