DABIN︎︎︎KELLY


My work
“Different class”
is about our community and the way we grow up in it. Today’s society is very divided. Depending on our individual background, society tries to divide people into classes that are sometimes strongly based on the culture of wealth.

We all know the common saying: “raised with a silver spoon.” It is often mentioned when talking about people who grew up in a higher social class and had less things to worry about.

I want to go further by taking a look at how people from different social backgrounds communicate. From the late 18th century, ladies’ gloves became a symbol of high society. It was a mandatory accessory with the idea of covering all that is fair. With these gloves and it’s elegance people expressed themselves as being born with a silver glove, untouched by the struggle of the lower classes.






Dear Kelly,

So, about my long red baby gloves I sent you.

This piece is a starting piece of my collection “Different class”

-Video: Make a video of yourself wearing the necklace and show your emotion and struggle freely.
Wear the long necklace and bind your neck once or twice or more if you feel ok. While wearing them try to make a piece balance many times to find your own best comfort position with this piece. You might have difficulty wearing them comfortably because it will not be so comfortable but find your own position the best comfort and make video as long as you can and please don’t shorten or edit the video.

-Photo: Put on the necklace, and take a picture of yourself wearing it. Send me your full video and image.
I’m so excited to see my piece on you and hear how your experience was!

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Dabin





The discovery. First, look.





“There is something about receiving mail, the unknown, the surprise. Each day I look forward to that moment on the doorstep.

I unpacked the box to see purple tissue paper wrapped over weighted pillow-like forms. Gently unfolding, the tissue revealed small red gloves... Can I wear them? ...No… they are small, tiny mittens, they rest so nicely filling the palm of my hand... attached like that of a child. You know, the kind that slides into your jacket so that when in need of your un-mittened hand, you don't lose them; instead, they dangle from inside your sleeve.


Tiny red mittens, attached at a great distance--more than that of an average arm span...


Mittens.. gloves...mittens...





... are a personal item and often not shared.. to place your hand inside an object, so intimate—a quite often, for me, restrictive action.

The color was surprising to me, red- of caution, of blood. Their texture fascinating; it is almost as they are fiber but made of wire. Like loops... Thousands of loops. Like a rug.


This object feels like home. There is not much red in my house, but these mittens matched the rug in my studio. As I unpacked them, the sun came in the window, and I paused, comparing, and taking time to appreciate the craft, and the tiny red mittens.

The sun drew me to bringing them outside, they felt cold to the touch but meant to warm the hand. 





Laying the mittens over my neck felt comfortable, cold, and heavy, not too heavy.  They hung so low to the ground they felt more weighted.  As I reached for one mitten, the other would fall, perfectly distributed weight; it was like I was fighting to keep them with me. I reached, and it was beyond my grasp. I couldn’t gain control. They are a perfect pair but repel one another.

Wrapped around my neck, it felt right, but with movement, I lost control. The glove slipped to the ground, and the metal connection sinched my neck. It was like the feeling of being in a chair, and it almost tipping over, that feeling of falling. I wasn’t falling, but my body ran hot as the mitten slipped from my hands and toward the floor. Unwrapping to rewrap them around me, I tried to get the length just right.





I don’t often pause and pay attention to simple tasks or tiny struggles- the act of wearing this necklace made me question my expectations of how I looked and how it function. Can I wear it with the gloves at my feet? Yes, but then I couldn't walk; I wanted to wear it long, so the gloves were near my hands..so I could hold them. 
I was shocked, scared, frustrated, I laughed, and eventually, I felt at ease. I wanted the gloves to be close to me. Once their weight was on my chest and the long metal connection tight around my neck... I was hyper-aware of their presence… simultaneously restricted but relaxed.












  SELF-MEDICATED: ANTWERP BE, OKLAHOMA CITY USA, PHILADELPHIA USA + SAN DIEGO USA