M

World of Wearable Art Awards- Summer 2020

Title of Entry: Death of True Love

(Work in Progress)

Wellington, New Zealand 

Costume Rendering, Research, and Construction by Matthew Darryl Martinez 

​

W.O.W. Prompt:

Each year we ask designers to be inspired by one of the six worlds that will make up the World of WearableArt Awards. There are three recurring Sections; Aotearoa, Avant-garde and Open, and three Sections that are unique to that year. 

​

Section Selected: Open Category

Be inspired by the Open Section in the 2020 World of WearableArt Awards. On this page you’ll find a set of resources we have put together to inspire and provide a jumping-off point for your 2020 entry.  

​

Concept Statement: 

For the longest time, whenever I would close my eyes at night to escape to the land of dreams, I would have nightmares. I would dream of demons pulling at my feet in the middle of the night. Sometimes they would dig their claws into my shoulders, and whisper words I did not understand into my ear. Some nights I would dream of a ghost who would sit outside my window,  and cry for me until the break of dawn. Yet each time I awoke to greet the spirit, it would disappear. 

 

Like the ghost in my dream, there is so much beauty in mourning, which is something I am too familiar with when it comes to love. Loving someone is so short, while the ghost of them never seems to leave. I have never been enough to keep the men in my life around. Like the demons of my slumber, they dig their teeth into my flesh, and feast upon my heart. They vanish in the morning, while the only thing left holding me are the white sheets that cradle my crying, crimson body. 

 

I've known nothing but nightmares when it comes to love. I decided to turn these heartaches, these night terrors,  into something beautiful. I decided to take all the darkness, and turn them into pieces of art. 

 

I dedicate this project to anyone who has never been enough. Who has always been second best when you have given every single  ounce of your heart and soul to  something, or to someone who didn’t appreciate your worth. I dedicate it to those our society deems ugly, for the abused, the handicapped, and the forgotten. You are not alone in your darkness.  Sometimes we are forced into the blackness, and I have learned to see the beauty in the abyss of onyx chaos. 

 

To the men who murdered my heart over morning coffee, and late-night candlelit laughter. To the men who dragged my bleeding corpse through the weeds, and threw me  into my wooden box. To all the men whose pretty little lies and broken promises were the nails that cemented the lid on my coffin closed. You might have buried me in your past. But I heard your footsteps crunching in the dirt, as you left me six feet below. I could still see your eyes staring back at me in the darkness you left me in. 

 

 I am still breathing, and this heart is back from the grave.