Pop It On and Go: Wearable Art for Everyday Life in Darwin
Some mornings I simply don't want to think too much about what I'm going to wear.
There is school drop-off, work to do, appointments, food shopping, school pick-up, perhaps a walk somewhere in between — and in Darwin, of course, there is the heat.
I've realised that one of the things I love most about a good dress is that I can simply pop it on and go.
Hair up. Earrings on. Comfortable shoes. Done.
And I still feel as though I've made an effort.
That has become one of my favourite things about wearing the clothing I've been developing through Maria Grujicic Studio. I'm not only looking at the designs on a computer screen anymore. I'm actually wearing them through my ordinary days — walking, driving, working, shopping and doing all the things that make up everyday life. For me, creating wearable art in Darwin also means thinking about how clothing actually works in our climate and everyday lifestyle.
And I'm learning quite a lot from doing that.
Wearable Art for Darwin Life: Why I keep coming back to dresses and skirts
I've always been drawn to skirts and dresses, and comfort is a big part of the reason.
Like many women, my body doesn't remain exactly the same size all the time. I gain a little weight. I lose a little weight. Life changes, bodies change, and I don't particularly want getting dressed each morning to become a judgement about any of that.
Jeans and fitted trousers can be rather unforgiving. A relatively small change in your body can suddenly mean that the waistband doesn't sit quite the way it did before, or the trousers that were comfortable a few months ago aren't the pair you instinctively reach for anymore.
A softly shaped skirt or dress can be much more accommodating.
That doesn't mean fit doesn't matter — of course it does. But I find dresses and skirts can give me a little more freedom. There is room to move, room to sit comfortably, and sometimes simply a little more room to be human.
Perhaps that's why they have always been my "go-to" clothes.
I also like that one piece can do most of the work for me. I don't have to find trousers and then decide which top goes with them and whether the proportions work together.
One dress.
One pair of shoes.
Off I go.
And I actually like how I look in it
I think women are sometimes hesitant to say that.
But why shouldn't we?
When I put on my Little Luna May Nature Pigments Skater Dress, I like the way it looks on me.
I like the shape of the bodice. I like the way the skirt falls away from the waist rather than clinging to my body. I like the movement of the skirt when I walk. I like the soft butter-yellow colour against the little nature-inspired marks across the top.
It feels feminine without feeling fussy.
Modern without feeling overly fashionable.
Colourful without shouting.
And most importantly, I feel like myself in it.
I have also noticed something interesting since I began wearing my own designs more often. When I feel comfortable and happy with what I'm wearing, I carry myself differently. I feel more confident walking into a shop, an appointment or a meeting. I smile more readily. And I often find people respond warmly in return.
Clothing is part of how we present ourselves to the world, but for me it is also a form of creative expression.
I'm an artist. Why shouldn't some of my artwork come with me?
Dressing for Darwin
Darwin has influenced this thinking enormously.
When it's hot and humid, I don't necessarily want jackets, scarves, layers and lots of accessories. Sometimes even wearing my hair down feels like too much!
So I like clothing where colour, shape and artwork do the work.
I can put my hair up, add earrings and flats or sneakers, and that's enough.
A dress like this can take me from school drop-off to an appointment, then to the supermarket, back to work and later to school pick-up without me feeling that I'm wearing the wrong thing for any of those places.
And because I like walking, I want my everyday clothes to move with me too. I'm not talking about going for a serious workout in a dress! But if I have twenty minutes and decide to take a brisk walk around the block before heading home, I like being dressed in something that doesn't make that seem impossible.
That, to me, is part of the Darwin lifestyle: practical, relaxed, outdoors, colourful and not too precious.
But this isn't just a dress — I'm wearing Little Luna May's story
This is probably the part I love most.
The artwork on this dress didn't begin as a fashion design.
It grew from Little Luna May — The Colours That Were Already There, my new picture book.
And Little Luna May itself grew from walking.
Walking through the environment. Looking closely. Collecting ideas. Noticing colours, textures, leaves, seeds and all those tiny things children are often very good at seeing when adults have already walked straight past them.
Little Luna May explores the colours that are already around us in nature.
Rather than rushing out to buy something new, Luna May looks at what is already there.
In the story, there is a little container for her nature collection — a place for the small discoveries gathered along the way. There is her dress. There is her hat. These objects become part of her exploration and part of the visual language of the story.
They represent something very simple that matters enormously to me as both an artist and an educator:
Go outside. Look. Notice. Wonder.
The environment is already full of material for imagination.
From a walk, to a picture book, to something you can wear
That is why this particular dress means much more to me than putting a pattern onto a garment.
When I wear it, I feel as though I'm wearing a little piece of Little Luna May's story.
The pale blues and nature-inspired marks connect back to those observations and collections. The butter yellow brings warmth and light. Together, they have become something quite different from the original pages of the book, while still belonging to the same creative world.
I love that journey:
walk → notice → collect → draw → paint → story → picture book → wearable art
One creative experience can keep unfolding.
That's increasingly how I see Maria Grujicic Studio. A painting doesn't necessarily have to end as a painting. An experience in the Darwin landscape might become an illustration. An illustration might become a book. A book might inspire a children's workshop. A detail from that artwork might eventually become something we can wear.
They are not really separate projects.
They're different ways of telling the same story.
Little Luna May is coming soon
I'm still in the proofing stage of Little Luna May — The Colours That Were Already There.
The second printed proof is on its way to me, and I'm looking forward to holding it in my hands and checking everything carefully again before I make the book available.
That's another kind of testing!
Just as I want to wear my clothing before recommending it, I want to see and handle the physical book — look at the colours, turn the pages, see how the illustrations reproduce and make sure it feels right as an object a child and parent will hold together.
I'll be sharing more of the book very soon.
The story began here in Woolner, Darwin.
In this little film, I take Little Luna May back into the landscape that helped inspire her story. I read parts of the book, wander through the environment and share some of the colours, textures and places behind the illustrations.
When I look at the dress now, I can see that whole journey in it — not simply a fabric design, but walking, observing, drawing, painting and storytelling.
Yes, I test my own clothing too
This has become important to me as I develop the wearable-art side of my studio.
I don't want to create something digitally, put it online and never actually experience it.
I want to know:
How does it feel?
How does it move?
How does it wash?
How does the sizing feel in real life?
Would I happily wear it for several hours?
Does the artwork look the way I hoped it would once it becomes fabric and moves around a body?
So I'm wearing my samples. I'm testing them. I'm taking note of what I like and what I would change. And I'm listening when other people give me useful feedback.
I'm still developing this part of my practice, and I think that's a good thing.
It means I'm learning from the actual objects rather than simply assuming they work because they looked lovely on a screen.
A little piece of Darwin, wherever you are
Although Little Luna May began here, I don't think you need to live in Darwin to connect with its ideas.
Looking closely at nature can happen anywhere.
A child can collect fallen leaves in Darwin, seed pods in Melbourne, shells on a Greek island, pebbles beside a river or tiny discoveries from a backyard.
The particular landscape changes.
The act of noticing doesn't.
And perhaps that's another reason I like the idea of turning this story into wearable art.
Someone elsewhere in Australia — or much further away — can wear the dress without ever having walked the same paths that inspired it.
But they are carrying a little part of that place and its story with them.
A little Darwin colour.
A little tropical light.
A little reminder to notice what is already there.
And for me?
I'll keep wearing mine through school drop-offs, appointments, supermarket aisles, walks and studio days.
Because sometimes good design really can be that simple:
Pop it on. Go out into the world. Feel good. And get on with your day.
The Little Luna May Nature Pigments Skater Dress is available from Maria Grujicic Studio for $79.95, with Australian shipping calculated separately. For international orders, please contact me to enquire about availability and shipping.
Little Luna May — The Colours That Were Already There is currently in its final proofing stage and will be coming soon.
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