In a Surreal State of Mind
(from the series Myself, My Mother), 2003
gelatin silver print
8x10 in

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My Self, My Mother

My mother died in 1993. Being the only daughter, I inherited all her clothing and jewelry. The clothes had hung in my closet for ten years. Friends had borrowed a dress or wrap, once in a while. Friend's daughters had come over to try on the gowns for formal dances they were invited to. I wore one mandarin chinese dress to a James Bond costume party. Basically, it was my own little Western Costume Rental Department.

A lot of the clothes my mother had acquired as samples when she was a house model on Seventh Avenue in New York in the early fifties. There was the mink edged beige and white brocade strapless cocktail dress, the ladylike kelly green satin number cinched at the waist with the geometric overlay bodice, the graduated, earthtoned satin Halston gown with kimono sleeves with the huge wingspan. Mostly she had dramatic, entrance makers.

I wondered, how would I feel wearing them? I had to find out. First of all, some were not in good condition, they smelled of her perfume, Estee Lauder, Youth Dew and cigarettes, some had stains. They usually didn't fit very well in the bust. She was larger than myself. I felt like my mother's impersonator. She'd make me feel like an imposter at times, so I felt like a voyeur or a spy wearing her clothes But maybe I'd get to know her in the process.

I decided this investigation should be documented. So I set up a photo shoot at Moorpark College in