The “museum” was originally a temple to the Muses, a dwelling that housed religious votives to the goddesses. But colonized as they have been by the male gaze, contemporary museums are homes to artifacts of elitist male civilization, a place of fetishizing, gawking, and violence–all things women and their bodies are routinely submitted to.

Fashion label Women’s History Museum is a paradox: a woman’s history written by Amanda McGowan and Rivkah Barringer and a rotating roster of collaborators. Artists Misty Pollen and Shahan Assadourian shot and styled WHM’s first lookbook in a rented car driven to an abandoned lot in Queens, NY.

With its deconstruction of fabrics and use of exercise ball plastic, pelts, temporary tattoos and burned silk among other materials, WHM is an experiment in taking the charred remnants of female identity and making them into a testament to distaff creativity and power.

I met Amanda and Rivkah at their studio where we talked about the NY fashion scene, humor and hand-me downs. The designer duo also touches upon the paradoxes of their medium; remembering how WHM was founded, Amanda recalls “We felt simultaneously alienated and attracted by a lot of things happening in New York. We were working out our own relationship to this environment. We’re still working it out. In some ways, fashion goes against who we are as people, morally.”

Ada O’Higgins: Yes, fashion is a space where pastiche and collage is necessary to the creative process, and where notions of right and wrong are often dissolved. Do you think fashion is a space that is exempt from ethics and morality?

Amanda McGowan: For a long time we were hesitant to do anything in fashion because we were unsure if we could work within that realm in a socially ethical way. Designers distill culture and make something new out of it, which can be problematic. They make statements but they’re often safe statements: an unfinished hem here, an androgynous model there. Fashion is a large platform that reaches innumerable people, but being cool often trumps having a conscience. But I think consumers on the Internet can now hold designers accountable to a small degree.

That said, we don’t consider ourselves exempt from critique. When designing, I always try to think about representation. Using other peoples’ bodies is inherently exploitative. As soon as you put your clothing on someone’s body, you’re using them for your own purpose. Most of the models we use are people who are participating in this project, we see models as collaborators.

AO: What are your references, fashion and otherwise?

AM: For the last collection, we talked about the digital image and how it circulates. In a small Instagram image, you often can’t fully make the subject out. You’ll see somebody wearing a garment and it will be almost unintelligible, but still alluring and exciting. We wanted to play with that idea––how abstract a garment can look.

We were also inspired by The Little Black Book of Grisélidis Réal: Days and Nights of an Anarchist Whore, a diary of a sex worker in Switzerland translated by Ariana Reines. The author protested on behalf of sex workers in their struggle for acceptance in the 1970s. She was politically aware, unabashed in her profession and very funny, which I admire.

Rivkah Barringer: I am obsessed with historical clothing and pictures of women wearing them. Looking at those clothes, and the emotion embedded in them inspires me. I love to think about women before feminist movements existed and reflecting on a sort of lost subjectivity.

AO: Fashion can discuss any topic from beauty to identity and politics, but can it discuss itself? Some people believe that fashion’s lack of self-reflexiveness is a reason for its supposed superficiality.

RB: I do think fashion has untapped potential for subversion, but it’s rarely tried to extricate itself from oppressive systems of hierarchy.
What compels me is the fact that it has traditionally been a site of consumption and creativity for people of feminine experience, which is why fashion is usually dismissed as frivolity. But fashion is not more or less frivolous than any other social behavior––it’s the most widespread social convention. It’s so tied to our bodies and our experience of life; it’s both utilitarian and fantastical. There are endless intersections and opportunities for critical engagement.

AM: Humor and pushing aside reality have been crucial in fashion, more so than facing reality. Designers and creatives have sought solace in this community. But fashion is a very image-based industry. Interviews happen, but at the end of the day it’s all about brand image. There’s not as much responsibility at play as there is for a visual artist. Intellectual privilege dominates the art world, while fashion has always had more of this fantasy element, and humor has been so important.

The title is a sincere joke.

AO: What is it like, starting your own line, financially? Many platforms celebrate young and lesser-known designers without discussing the reality of the financial struggle involved.

RB: We both work full time and are on our own financially, so it’s hard. At the same time we have a certain level of comfort in our lives that enables us to do this. We don’t have commercial goals for WHM. The way things operate now is that designers have to go into debt to sell clothes. And they don’t have control over how stockists are using the clothes. I’m more interested in making clothes and having people wearing them than selling. The intimacy of that would be powerful.

AO: There’s a problematic aspect to a museum and the way it takes objects out of their original context and fetishizes them. As a fashion brand, how do you relate to the museum as an institution, what is the significance of that exhibition format (and does it by any chance relate to Instagram)?

RB: The title is a sincere joke. That’s the only way I know how to put it. We are creating an alternate institution. I have always loved museums, but they are immoral places full of elitism and theft. They are an exemplary site of colonialism shrouded in holiness and sacredness. We are aware of the western museum’s fetishistic relationship to objects. But we’re also making fun of that, toying with this obsession with archiving in the fashion and art world.

It’s about creating an alternative environment, a diorama beyond just objects. A container for ideas, a realm. A museum.

AM: Throughout the years of our conversation we desperately wanted to create an idealistic space for people and ourselves. We are fascinated by clothes and objects and wanted to make a space to discuss that in a way that’s not harmful to other people. It’s about creating an alternative environment, a diorama beyond just objects. A container for ideas, a realm. A museum.

AO: It seems to me like fashion is an art form where people are less preoccupied with ownership over an idea and claiming something as their own. Yet that idea is so fundamental to the idea of a museum, and of the Western ideal of the male genius artist. What do you think of that?

RB: Our collaboration is always a struggle because we are both very strong willed people. The idea of the singular genius is something we’re always fighting. It is a masculinist and outdated ideal that I don’t want to perpetuate. We are always bargaining our personal iconographies with the brand. We are very interested in collage and quilting: ways of making our ideas stronger through collision.

The specific way that we’re working is rooted in feminist politics. The act of creating work that involves collage, manipulation, pastiche, and other forms championed by women artists is cathartic for me. It doesn’t feel routine, but rather vivid with ideas. The act of distressing clothing and adding to it is a way of insisting on your authorship of that item.

AO: The codes and signs of fashion and garments speak as much to the people around us as the language we use. But our clothes have been pre-designed and sold to us; they can seem less manipulatable than language. What do you think of the possibilities and limitations of the language of fashion to construct an identity?

What women wear can combat codes of expectations, because you can’t really escape your embodiment at the end of the day.

AM: Finance and privilege are always an issue. Growing up I would get a lot of hand-me-down clothes. The idea of getting something that’s not the nicest or newest thing, but that you can use for whatever purpose you want was exciting. Having something that was already worn made it less precious and more malleable. I would make weird patchwork tops out of remnant fabrics even old underwear (which was a secret) or cut off whatever parts of the garment I liked (like sleeves) and only wear that.

This is one of the reasons we don’t make clothes that are pristine. There’s something liberating about having a garment that is already dirty, it welcomes more personal touches.

I still believe clothing can be a form of resistance. Thrifting and Internet shopping give different kinds of people access to clothes. Through these avenues almost anyone can own a designer item, which confuses class-consciousness and blurs divisions.

Unfortunately, you can have a very fruitful creative engagement with your clothing but it is not going to be read the way you intended by the person on the street. You have no control over what is being projected onto you. For women, especially trans women and people that are gender non-conforming, the clothing we wear can incite harassment and violence. So there are some of the limits or risks to expressing yourself yourself through fashion. Dressing how you want is still an act of rebellion for some. I think it’s necessary and brave for women to play with the roles we have in society, and come to terms with our own power.

What women wear can combat codes of expectations, because you can’t really escape your embodiment at the end of the day.

Photography Misty Pollen

Styling Shahan Assadourian

Makeup Meghan King and Ada O’Higgins

Models Ada O’Higgins, Meghan King and Shahan Assadourian
Web Jon Lucas