My Crazy Cousin From the West

I met Erin Mahoney around 2008. She was a dress maker that had moved in next door and I was scouring Berkeley for something unique to wear to a formal party. She invited me to her studio one sunny afternoon and I was immediately captivated. It was one small room behind a popular, local restaurant. Light streamed in through a glass door onto an antique couch. There was a silver tray with a tea set on a footstool, a dresser with antique baubles: pearls, broaches and several strange hats. There was a basket with shoes. A work area with a cutting table and a sewing machine. And dresses.

For this party, I had thought the sky was the limit but I was quickly out priced. "I have some samples," she explained, "there are a couple that might fit you and might be in your price range." Even off the rack I could barely afford the $600.00 dress. But I loved it. It was tight fitting, champagne colored silk. There was a peek-a-boo slit down the front and the back was cut out and framed by two broad, diagonal silk straps. Simple but stunning. A lot like the dress maker. When I put on the heels, the lift caused the silk to hang gracefully from my hips and I was sold.

It was several more years before I learned of her infatuation with Venice, and Carnival in particular. My neighbor had always looked like the girl next door, quietly coming and going in colorful, vintage sundresses. Then one day, I got an invite to go inside her home. Being an artist, it was like a child walking into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Half finished art projects sat in every corner. Every inch was dedicated to some kind of art project. Each wall was a different color of paint and/or wall paper: velvet wallpaper, relief wallpaper, handprinted wallpaper and tin tiles. There were also enormous bouquets, a tapestry on the wall, a peacock room, a jungle room; there was a lamp post in the living room. It was a little surreal.

Then she showed me several costumes in progress for Carnival. There were 'themes' I didn't quite understand. She spoke of 'family' and it took me a while to realize these people were not relatives but extremely close friends. As I listened to her describe Venice Carnival, I fell in love with her excitement. Not that I personally wanted to partake - it looked like a huge, all consuming undertaking - but boy, was it fun to take a peek through her eyes.

Each of her costumes was meticulously constructed and decorated with hand sewn beads and hand stitched trim. They were accompanied by various vintage undergarments with French names. And each costume told a fantastical, fairytale story that matched the theme of the corresponding party. The details, the craftsmanship, and the stories. I found myself going back frequently to see her progress. And one day, as we sat in a room with lace scraps in piles on the floor, she pulled out an old, vintage suitcase with 25 years of Venice Carnival photos: the people, the parties and the costumes were all there in this little old suitcase.

Two and half years later we have put together a tall, true tale. What is Venice Carnival? What on earth does one wear and why? It is a picture book sprinkled with stories of friendship and grandiose costumes. Hopefully, it gives you a sense of what it's like to participate in one of the world's oldest festivals in one of the world's most unique cities. Think A Year In Provence but in pictures and in Italy.

We hope to have books ready for purchase sometime next year! Please come back and see our progress!

#mycrazycousin #carnival #fashiondesign #venice