Years ago, well into my middle age, I was invited to a grad school costume party. We were to clothe ourselves as our favorite mythological character. Mine was The Great Earth Mother, a giant vulva, built from stuffed pantyhose and paint. I found myself feeling embarrassed among all the beautiful, nubile women who dressed in togas and pulled their hair back, shot through with flowers and vines, wanting to be seen as sexy representations of Aphrodite. Where was the feminist grit and humor of the 1970's?
I am now, officially, an older artist and far less embarrassed. My issues are the feminist issues of power, gender and ageism. As with all body parts, vulvas age, but they remain silly, sexy and life giving. When I began to accumulate these trapunto vulvar objects, they made me giggle. And why not? It is a garden of vulva/shells, shuffling for space, in all shapes and configurations. In Grandmother's calicos and respectable muslin, they compete to be seen. It's a party! In a cheese box! And, why not?