From Artwork to Wearable Art: A Slow-Fashion Journey in Darwin
- Maria Grujicic
- Aug 3
- 4 min read
Wearable art has become a natural extension of my wider creative practice.
The designs in my collection do not begin as generic clothing graphics. They begin as drawings, paintings, prints, photographs, self-portraits, tactile experiments, picture-book illustrations and university art projects. Some have been developing for years. Others are new ideas that I am still refining, transforming and bringing together.
Where the journey began
One important turning point was participating in HAWT Couture, an anti-fast-fashion costume and performance project led by artist and performer Anna Lehmann Thomson.
Through upcycling workshops, old garments, found objects, fabric scraps and discarded materials were transformed into imaginative wearable art. HAWT Couture was created around ethical fashion, op-shop materials, community participation, costume, storytelling and performance rather than conventional fashion consumption.
I sewed pieces for myself and my child, developed stories around what we made and modelled our creations in two performances. The experience helped me see clothing differently—not simply as something practical or fashionable, but as another surface for storytelling, play, identity and artistic expression.
What began through an upcycling event also grew into a valued friendship with Anna and encouraged me to continue exploring costume, headdresses, sewing, soft sculpture and wearable forms. One of my earlier studio pages records a costume created for my child through Anna’s HAWT Couture workshop, as well as my continuing interest in headdresses and story-led textile work.
From the studio wall to the body
Since then, the idea has continued to develop.
My Tactile Wall Art Project grew through drawing, painting, printmaking, collage, sculpture, found materials and sensory experimentation. Selected images and motifs from that process are now being reworked into wearable designs, allowing the project to move beyond the gallery wall and into everyday life. The current project connects sensory exploration, collaborative installation, creative learning and sustainability.
Other designs come from:
original paintings and drawings;
self-portraits and photographed artworks;
printmaking and surface experiments;
university art projects;
place-based observations of Darwin;
the Ludmilla bushblock;
my picture book Mystery Plants & Trees: Adventures in the Ludmilla Bushblock;
developing picture-book and storytelling projects;
sculptural, textile and mixed-media work.
My broader practice has always moved between visual art, education, writing, picture books, sculpture, soft sculpture, wearable art and observation of Darwin’s plants, birds, textures and everyday environments.
Transforming an artwork into a wearable design
The process is not simply a matter of placing an existing picture onto a garment.
I may photograph or scan the original artwork, clean and refine the image digitally, adjust its shape, balance and scale, experiment with colour, remove or rebuild backgrounds and test how the artwork responds to different garments.
Some images remain close to their handmade originals. Others evolve substantially through cropping, layering, repetition or digital transformation. I am continually polishing earlier work and creating new designs, while preserving the marks, textures and imperfections that reveal the human process behind them.
The garment becomes another stage in the life of the artwork.
Why I use print on demand
My wearable-art collection uses a print-on-demand model, meaning an item is generally produced after it has been ordered rather than manufactured in large quantities and stored in advance.
This does not make a garment environmentally impact-free. Materials, printing methods, transport, packaging, returns and the length of time a garment is worn all matter. However, producing only after an order is placed can help reduce one particular problem: excess inventory created without knowing whether anyone will purchase it.
That distinction is important. Seamless, Australia’s national clothing stewardship initiative, reports that approximately 222,000 tonnes of clothing enter Australian landfill each year. It encourages people to choose thoughtfully, wear clothing for longer, reuse it and recycle responsibly.
The effects of clothing overproduction also extend beyond the countries where garments are first purchased. Large quantities of used textiles are exported internationally, particularly to countries in Africa and Asia. When the volume or quality cannot be managed through local reuse markets, it can place pressure on waste systems and communities.
This is a complex issue: second-hand clothing markets can provide affordable garments, livelihoods and valuable reuse. The deeper problem is a system that produces and discards clothing faster than garments can be meaningfully worn, repaired, resold or processed.
Choosing slowly and wearing for longer
For me, slow fashion begins with attention.
It means taking time to choose something that genuinely speaks to us rather than buying simply because it is new. It means caring for clothing, wearing it repeatedly, repairing it where possible and keeping it for as long as we can.
It can also mean transforming what we already own:
altering a garment;
adding embroidery, patches or handmade details;
combining two older pieces;
passing clothing to another person;
turning fabric into costume, sculpture or another useful object.
My own journey began with this kind of transformation—taking existing garments and overlooked materials and allowing imagination to give them another life.
A collection that continues to grow
Maria Grujicic Studio wearable art brings together many parts of my practice: Darwin, nature, picture books, personal history, art education, tactile exploration, self-portraiture, university study and the pleasure of making.
The collection will continue to change as I revisit earlier artworks, finish developing current projects and create new designs.
Each piece begins with an artwork and carries part of its story forward—off the page, beyond the studio wall and into everyday life.
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