Skip to main contentGuaranteed: Any P.S. What? event will be messy. It will be chaotic. It will also remind you of all those college parties where you couldn't find your shoes--and got wasted enough to convince yourself you were a 19th-century Polish socialist.
Last Saturday's Gala Garage Ball, which lit up Southwest 5th Avenue from noon 'til way past bedtime, had that kind of hallucinatory about-to-fall-apartness that only happens among certain hate-to-plan creative types. Yet what you'll find at P.S. What?--a dwelling/theater/gallery/insert your word for creative venue here--is a kind of democratic energy and spontaneity too little in evidence in Portland's soi disant creative community.
At P.S. What?, truly, anything goes.
Says resident impresario Ahren Lutz: "The whole idea of combining a yard sale with a fashion show and art exhibition is interesting to me because it raises a lot of really good questions: about public and private property, material ownership, exchange and culture in general." In other words, the project tests, and possibly dissolves, traditional divisions: high vs. low art, yours vs. mine, found vs. made.
Their Garage Gala was a benefit for the Anti Anti-Postering Postering Campaign, which opposes the leaflet ban championed by our city-sanitizing mayor. It began as your average afternoon garage sale in the gravel lot that abuts the house (P.S. What? is a worn Victorian bordered by both a Texaco station and I-405). Browsers rifled the goods, DJ Baby Jesus spun records, and the former living room of the house--now the "L Room" Gallery--displayed cheaper-by-the-dozen artwork created by a double handful of locals. At sundown, the idlers dispersed (or changed costume) and the Double-G quickly spun into a "happening."
The evening's fashion show featured designer Gwineth Penelope, who showcased sexy dresses designed specifically for barroom twilight--thigh-high slits, stretchy red and black velvet, poufs of tulle and plastic netting clouding around hems and bustles. Her models trod bravely on an improvised stage cobbled from a few borrowed Berbati's risers, occasionally freeing their snagged skirts from protruding nails with a cool sweep of the hand.
Penelope was followed by an uneven succession of campy style tableaux: Lutz's duct-tape cowboy hats and Astroturf vests, Jason Pajor's Ziploc-ed Polaroid T-shirts (which were auctioned off) and a panoply of fashion skits and performative raffle prizes. Tin Foil Foxes displayed nubile young misses swathed in aluminum creations (think human-sized Bistro Montage doggie-bag sculptures). Vintage Vannas paraded ladies in retro glamour gowns carrying leftover toys and oddments from the garage sale. Human TV Dinner was, well, about what it sounds like (mac 'n' cheese, if you must know).
While some of these diversions were part of the scheduled programming, others--like Jason's T-shirt auction--were improvised according to who showed up. And that's precisely the tangy zip that gives P.S. What? its edge.
By keeping a loose grip on the action, the organizers can hand the reins to any eager bystander with a good act. In the words of co-host Bronwyn Nettles (she was the TV-dinner victim--and a former victim of WW's internship program), "It's a democracy, and it has all the flaws of a democracy. But it's about the forum. It's about giving creative people the opportunity and freedom to do their thing." And it doesn't hurt if the "legislative session" closes with some good old-fashioned entertainment--in this case video by Beau Van Hinklywinkle and music by the Sensualists.
But just as garage sales are only as successful as their turnout, a performance like the Garage Gala is only as good as its audience. Though some game supporters cheerfully purchased raffle tickets, applauded and catcalled the models, bought stuff, and ate their fill of cheesy mac, the crowd was liberally peppered with surly hipsters who clung to the margins, impassively beholding the spectacle. Their caution is understandable. P.S. What? has a way of making the outsider feel like she's about to be roped into some regrettable prank. Still, that kind of freaky edge may be just the shot in the arm that Portland fashion needs. When was the last time your clothes felt dangerous?
Find out just what P.S. What? is at www.pswhat.com .
Even a free-for-all takes orchestration. The Sewing Circle Terrorists, who helped organize the Garage Gala, congregate monthly as a support gang of creative women--artists, musicians, designers, etc.--who swap ideas, resources and expertise (for example, a splinter group plans to lead sewing seminars). Interested parties with two X chromosomes should e-mail Bronwyn Nettles (lolitaredstockin
@hotmail.com) for an invitation to the next meeting.
WWeek 2015