open to change

The Stirling shopping arcade has retained Victorian facades, behind which dwell a bazaar of unusual shops which don’t fit the 1990s retail trade mainstream. The Changing Room is situated in this unique, downcast and peripheral arcade. Hidden behind the pristine white walls of the gallery are wonderful arched windows with square paned glass, old cornicing and plasterwork and a grotesque pipe system which probably served as an inadequate heating system. The toilet facilities are located in the recesses of the building, beyond a wooden circular staircase and a frosted glass doored entrance which hides the old plumbing. All this is like looking into a mirror reflecting the past. Smells of disinfectant, polish and staleness mingle with memories of being a child playing in the store rooms of department stores, among old mannequins, telephones, boxes and coathangers.

My father managed department stores, within which there was always a haberdashery counter: an Aladdin’s Cave of shiny buttons, sequins and ribbons, enticements of wonderful gowns and dresses. Worn at parties, illicit rendezvous and special moments. Lace, safety pins and clasps. Little boxes of interest. Fumbling fingers looking for that important practical hook to hold shut a costume. A hook which, when loosened, can expose soft flesh and promises of sensual pleasures. A haberdashery of the senses.

I've placed small counter-shaped boxes along and around a corner of the Changing Room gallery, displaying haberdashery which relates to visual images on the wall. These images are photographic collages of parts of the human body adorned with garments held together by items of haberdashery, for example, hooks, clasps and zips. The piece also includes written extracts from Victorian erotic literature, which makes great play on the erotic quality of these items, in contrast to the perceived Victorian morality.

Carolyn Mason