Design
Can an ordinary material become precious?
In brief
Familiar materials can acquire significance through their transformation into objects worth keeping. Rebecca Nardi’s construction materials, Gabrielle Chanel’s jersey and Martin Margiela’s fragmented porcelain show how design changes our relationship with matter. Their different histories invite a closer examination of the value attributed to the finished object.
A construction tarpaulin comes with practical expectations. Its surface protects a building site. Its usefulness depends on its resistance to weather and wear. Shaped into clothing, the material enters an intimate relationship with the body. Its weight and texture become part of the experience of a garment.
Rebecca Nardi explores this encounter in her Architecte collection, using construction tarpaulins, electrical cables and ropes to create clothing and jewellery. Her studio describes the collection as a connection with her previous career in interior architecture, developed through an exploration of structure and volume.
That continuity interests me. A material familiar from one profession becomes available for another kind of work. The designer brings knowledge of its possibilities, then encounters the demands of an object intended to be worn.
The finished piece carries the consequences of those decisions. Its construction gives us something concrete to examine beyond the initial surprise of recognising a material from a building site.
Jersey and the experience of movement
Gabrielle Chanel’s adoption of jersey during the 1910s offers a related history. The Victoria and Albert Museum documents the textile’s earlier association with men’s sportswear and undergarments. Chanel used fine silk jersey for fashionable womenswear, creating garments suited to the relaxed environment of coastal resorts such as Deauville and Biarritz. Their construction accommodated movement without restrictive undergarments.
Jersey describes a knitted textile structure, and silk jersey can be costly. Its relevance here lies in the practical associations that Chanel brought into a fashionable wardrobe. The fabric’s behaviour helped support the appeal of the clothes.
This distinction matters when discussing value. A material’s reputation includes the uses and settings through which people encounter it. Design can alter those associations by giving familiar properties a compelling purpose.
Chanel’s example also gives substance to the idea of transformation. The experience of wearing the garment formed part of its appeal. Softness and freedom of movement had a direct relationship with the life of its wearer.
Porcelain carries its history
Martin Margiela’s porcelain waistcoat from autumn/winter 1989/90 approaches transformation through fragments of tableware. The Metropolitan Museum of Art records its materials as porcelain, metal and cotton, and identifies the garment with the house’s early Artisanal work. Its commentary emphasises the careful handwork involved in reassembling existing matter.
Porcelain already has a long history of craftsmanship and desirability. The waistcoat therefore introduces a different question from Nardi’s construction materials. Breaking a familiar object changes its usefulness; assembling its fragments into clothing gives them another form and setting.
The fragments remain recognisable. Their relationship with tableware survives within the garment, contributing to its appearance and meaning. The work invites attention to the connections between pieces and to the unfamiliar presence of porcelain across a torso.
I find that retained history part of the object’s interest. The material brings associations that continue to operate after its transformation.
Preciousness requires judgement
These examples give us reasons to examine the value attributed to materials. Nardi works with matter associated with construction. Chanel developed the possibilities of a textile carrying practical associations. Margiela assembled fragments whose previous identity remains visible.
Their inclusion in the same discussion requires care. Neither a change of use nor an unexpected combination establishes lasting value on its own. A designer’s reputation can influence our response, alongside the attention given to an object by museums, collectors and the fashion industry.
My judgement would also depend on a closer encounter with the finished piece. The handling of a seam, the security of a connection and the behaviour of a surface can affect the pleasure of an object over time. Photographs leave some of that experience unavailable.
The word precious allows for a personal attachment that develops through use and familiarity. It can describe an object whose construction continues to reward examination, or whose significance deepens as we live with it.
An ordinary material can participate in that experience. Its transformation earns closer attention when the finished object gives us lasting reasons to care for it.