Leanne ShaptonReviews

‘Women in Clothes’ collects a sprawling project interviewing (mostly American) women about what they wear and what clothes mean to them. Reading it is inevitably a rather fragmentary experience, as each snippet is only a few pages of the five hundred total. There are also plenty of illustrations, giving the air of a lengthy, intellectual magazine. At first I preferred to read only a small amount of it at time, before getting immersed. I think what makes the project compelling is starting to reflect on how your own perceptions and experiences are similar and different to the project’s contributions. A few seemed insufferable, while others were wise or tragic, but the vast majority were thought-provoking. Visually, I particularly liked the photocopies of women’s hands and accompanying discussion of the rings they wore. Also the photos of mothers before they had children, which addressed the generational elements of style and dressing. By contrast, I found the diagrams of clothes scattered on the floor horrifying, as I am very tidy and would NEVER leave clothes on the floor. (Whenever past housemates left their clothes on the floor, I picked them up.) The strongest element and the backbone of the whole project, however, are the survey responses and interviews. The wide range of voices give a fascinating overall impression.

As previously mentioned in my review of [b:The Curated Closet: A Simple System for Discovering Your Personal Style and Building Your Dream Wardrobe|28364022|The Curated Closet A Simple System for Discovering Your Personal Style and Building Your Dream Wardrobe|Anuschka Rees|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1465676327s/28364022.jpg|48435763], I think about clothes quite a lot already. Nonetheless, ‘Women in Clothes’ inspired me to further reflection and even action. One interview mentioned the futility of keeping garments that will only ever have sad associations, reminding me that I have a purple dress that I wore to my beloved Nana’s funeral last year. I haven’t worn it since and think of the funeral whenever I look at it. Yet I kept it, because I like the shape, colour, and fit. Now I realise that I never want to wear it again, so must give it to charity. I have other things to remind me of happy times with my Nana, rather than the distress of her funeral. The book also spurred me to look through past years of outfit photos that I used to take regularly. Recalling 2013, 2014, and 2015 through outfit selfies was a striking experience. What I wear, what we all wear to some extent, is mediated by how we feel. I started wearing a lot of big, soft woollen jumpers in 2014, during my PhD, because I felt unhappy and they were reassuring. The interviewee who talked about how garments feel on the skin really struck a chord with me - I care a great deal about clothes feel on my body, perhaps more than I care about how they look. Indeed, I think the two are linked.

As well as the individual importance of garments, the book engages somewhat with the fashion industry and the damage it causes. There is a moving and horrifying interview with a survivor of the Rana Plaza factory collapse, a catastrophe in which more than a thousand people died. Several other interviewees focus on the ethical quandaries of dressing. One of them reassured me by stating firmly that second hand clothing is the way forward - we need to stop buying so much new stuff. This is my policy and I rarely buy new clothes, just underwear or the occasional item that I’ve failed for months to find second hand a couple of times a year. Buying ethical new clothes is fraught with difficulties: limited sizing, lack of availability, and the ever-present suspicion of greenwash. I have bought organic cotton items from H&M, although I know that their fast fashion low price ethos is fundamentally incompatible with ethical, environmentally responsible production. I always feel guilty about new purchases. Buying clothes from charity shops, by contrast, is about fun, discovery, and experimentation. Worst case, you’ve given a few pounds to a good cause and can donate the garment back if you don’t wear it.

‘Women in Clothes’ is a broad project and I’m not sure how many readers would think it worth going through the entire write-up. It would be ideal to dip into, though, and I think anyone with even a modicum of interest in clothes, make-up, perfume, embodiment, or femininity would find a lot to think about. The survey responses have a sincere, honest air. Although some across as pretentious or over-privileged, they all have something compelling to say. (I can probably come across as pretentious myself when talking about clothes.) I was tempted to try and answer all the survey questions myself, as well as reflecting on garments that I’ve known, loved, and love still. To me, and certain interviewees, clothing still retains the quality of dressing up in a costume that it possessed during childhood. A tiny pleasure that enhances the mundane working day is to choose an outfit to be someone slightly different, a character in some story more dramatic than your office job. It needn't be perceptible to anyone but you. I took to heart a comment I once read online: Dress for the dystopia you want, not the one that you have.

This book was mentioned by someone on social media (I can't remember who or where) and my interest was immediately piqued. The book is styled as an auction catalogue from a fictional auctioneers, Strachan & Quinn, and it lists items for sale from the collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris. These are everyday items: clothing, books, letters, postcards etc, basically everything from their life together as a couple. It doesn't sound like much of a read so far, does it? But by providing photographs and listing details for each item, Leanne Shapton tells the story of a relationship from beginning to end.

The items themselves are sometimes fascinating, sometimes everyday, sometimes nothing special, but as a whole they provide a clear view of a relationship that worked for a time but ultimately was doomed to fail. I think it's a very clever way to document a love story. It is fictional but I feel like Lenore and Harold are real people, are in fact a food writer and photographer.

This book is unique and original and must have taken ages to construct. I dipped in and out of it and so read it over a few days. It lacks some of the depth I really want in a book but it's certainly memorable for its innovative concept.

Original WOmen In Clothes, 2014, 562 women write about their wear to dress and their clothes

The book is weird and makes no sense, but it's supposed to be artsy, so that's apparently OK? Not for me.

I was hoping for a breathtaking (universal, maybe) reflection on past relationships and the impact of someone else's past on their current relationship; that's not what this book is. It is, instead, a very light, almost inconsequential vignettes about snippets of various people's lives. Which is fine, but it's nothing that will stick with me.

Dating. I tell ya.

"Margaret felt sick and racked with guilt. But after reading about Scott's ex-girlfriends (and his difficulty in committing to them), what she felt was not exactly jealousy, fear or suspicion: she felt love for Scott. Everything she adored about him was evident: the integrity he had toward his own instincts, his impatience with passivity, his boredom with shallow values, and his intolerance for cruelty. This did not go far to alleviate her nausea, or slow the spool of images rushing through her head. But Scott's past, before she met him, was blameless, and real."

Hooray for the internet.

Some of these pieces are moving, but too many fall flat, and the overall piece doesn't hold together. Maybe this is because Shapton's ghosts are not mine, but the found-photograph element seems contrived at times.

What a strange and creepy book! Not what I expected, but definitely creative and affecting. Reading these stories, paired with the images, did bring up the same feelings as hearing a ghost story around a campfire. I did love also that in one story, a character tried to talk about ghosts at a cocktail party and her partner thought that was weird. Relatable!

I finally finished this book.

It took me several months to make my way through it; this was not, for me, a pick-it-up-and-finish-it-in-one-go kind of book. That's not necessarily a bad thing; I have a lot of books in the slow-read category that I work my way through in bits and pieces over the long haul, sometimes years.

But in the case of Women in Clothes, it wasn't necessarily a good thing, either.

It aims to legitimize the concerns about dress--what to wear, when, why, and what that clothing communicates--that specifically women have as something that it is possible for serious, intellectual and successful women to think about. It certainly makes the case that women largely do think about this whether they should be or not, and that women put a fair bit of thought into what their clothing says about them, their lifestyles, their aspirations, and so on.

But the sheer variety of voices somewhat undercuts the success of this central message: one of the things that is most inescapable to conclude after reading Women in Clothes is that different women attach different meanings to the same clothing, so we're not all speaking the same language. It raises the question, what's the point?

Unfortunately this question--and others raised by the book--is never answered.

The book is a (very large) collection of completed surveys (you can find it here) by about 640 women, as well as essays, photo essays, stories, conversations and interviews with women about clothes. There's sure to be something in there that interests and resonates with you. Unfortunately, there isn't a conclusion, or any kind of unifying discussion. I'm sure that was their point, but it was also a drawback.

The book would have been vastly improved if it were cut in half and organized in some fashion--by theme, perhaps, or socio-economic group. It's an interesting book (in parts, anyway) but it could have been a lot better.

"Swimming Studies" is the kind of book that makes you appreciate swimming, specifically the grueling routine every swimmer goes through. And while it is a memoir on Shapton's swimming experience, there's much more to it than just a pool and water. Loneliness, the meaning of self, observations of what's around you -- those are the themes I took away from this riveting memoir.

Everyone is a swimmer, or rather, everyone has a career or dream that they chase and try to perfect. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. But we still find a way to blend what we learned from an early age and apply it to what we do today. For Shapton, it's art and swimming. Her pieces of art scattered across the book are fascinating and chilling. Highly recommend this to anyone interested in swimming or looking for a polished outlook on how life changes after stepping away from something you've known all your life.

Waterloo-City, City-Waterloo is a great idea for a book but it feels a little unfinished. That is not the author’s fault, but rather the nature of the ‘story’. The book is divided into two sections, Outgoing and Return, with two covers. It’s up to the reader which journey they start with, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. You can flip the book over and begin the reverse journey. In each section are descriptions of people presumably on the Tube and snatches of conversation (real or imagined, it’s not clear. Maybe imagined because there is little swearing – or maybe Australians swear more on the train). Music is noticeably absent, although there are notes of people wearing headphones. Smartphone games are absent too, but perhaps this has something to do with the time period and the lack of reception on the Tube. (There are several mentions of Blackberries which seem so ancient now!)

Emails, texts, one sided conversations, descriptions, photos and the occasional two-way conversation make up the ‘story’. While it is the story of the people on the Tube and what they are up to, there is a lack of cohesiveness which reflects the on-off, lack of interaction with fellow passengers modern rail journey. It’s a story of disconnect, going into your own world or focussing on just the one conversation. (That seems kind of rare these days as I sit here typing, listening to music, half reading another screen and checking my phone all at once). So is it a focus on the self or a lack of interaction? I think that’s up to the reader.

The book is very easy to read, it’s light and easy to skim if you wish. Like the line itself, it’s short (but takes longer to read each journey than it would to actually make it!). There are similarities in the ingoing and outgoing trips, which make searching fun. It’s interesting and intriguing but those who like a linear story are unlikely to enjoy this.

http://samstillreading.wordpress.com

I saw a review in the New York Times (Oct.31, 2010) and tore it out. There are color illustrations - and favorite quotes about trees. This is wonderful. I look forward to reading this book.

I am not leaving a star rating because I couldnt finish this book.
I recieved it from a goodreads giveaway and am grateful the publisher sent it to me.
Unfortunately I found this book super confusing.
It did have lovely pictures but I def was completely lost with rest of it.

Blink and it's done. Remarkable example of storytelling that is way outside the normal boundaries for fiction. Given the form, the story itself couldn't be more mundane. Given that the whole point of the exercise should be "show, don't tell", there was a little too much "tell" with whole emails reproduced and the couple's prolific marginalia.

Still, an exciting way to tell the tale that succeeds more than it doesn't

For anyone who does not swim, this was a good description of the swimmer's routine and what occurs during meets.

I could relate to the adult fear of open water. Everyone assumes if you can swim you love water in any format. Not so. Chlorine provides security. Open water leaves you exposed to the elements.

I liked the author's artistic interpretations. I gave it two stars because some items were left incomplete. I saw the vignettes described as disjointed and I wholeheartedly agree.

I loved this book. I found it captivating.
I am a swimmer. I am the mother of a former competitive swimmer (distance). I love swimming in pools, lakes, the ocean, hot springs. I like water, A LOT! Don't even mind doing the dishes! So this book was written as a meditative, contemplative series of sensory vignettes by someone who is also captivated by water. Shapton trained for Olympic trials as a teenager in Etobicoke, Ontario but was caught by the influence of water and the way it pulls her through her life, influencing her art and her writing and her relationships I found very interesting!½

the adjectives 'delightful' and 'charming' and 'pleasant' often seem to trivialize their subject, but this memoir is all of these without being trivial. I found this a very enjoyable book to read. I liked how she referred to people in her life without any introduction, as though the reader were a friend who would know to whom the author referred. I liked the lack of linearity - not rambling, but event following event by relevance and association - very stream of conscious. I appreciated her revealing her struggles with depression, her brushes with fame/the famous, her uncertainies without making them the focus of her life. I liked that her life - what she's done, who has been with her, her wandering way in the world - were the focus of the book.

This book was a disappointment. A story told through an auction catalogue sounded promising but in the event the conceit of the catalogue wasn't fully exploited. Indeed, items like these aren't usually auctioned except, very occasionally, in lots and the story itself was a bog-standard one.

The tale would far better have been told in a short story, given that Shapton relies upon awkward contrivances like letters found in books, notes scribbled on theatre programmes, and photos of the couple.It's through these and not through the belongings themselves that what story there is is told. Once or twice Shapton begins to make good use of her framework: a catalogue description notes that the backgammon board is charred, but rather than hinting why the game is damaged she immediately moves from this to yet another note from Morris to Doolan, this one telling us how it was burned. A clever writer would have depicted Morris's travels, Doolan's hot temper, and the pair's tiffs and reconciliations through the lots themselves. The book does have one glint of humor: a photo of salt and pepper shakers in the form of rather seal-headed dachshunds: One shudders with glee..

(A few months after reading Important Artifacts I read a story of a successful though not quite high-flying businessman whose downfall leads to a violent death. It wasn't subtle--but neither is Shapton's story--and it was told in a sequence of sixteen till receipts shown without comment. So this sort of thing can be done and it's too bad that Shapton hadn't the wit try to do it.)

Leanne Shapton owns many bathing suits. This is a large, sociological difference between us. I own one bathing suit. When it falls apart, I throw it out and buy another. A whole section of photographs of bathing suits and their accompanying stories fills out the middle of Shapton's Swimming Studies. Then little vignettes: where purchased, why, worn when, why. It felt like floating, as much as reading about buying bathing suits can feel like floating, in a warm pool. One can hear the lap of waves on the tiles at the edge of the pool. Schlap schwap schlap schwap gelap.

The book is all mini-essays, mini-memoirs. There isn't really a story or a plot. Just the idea of being in water by choice. To swim (feet off the ground) versus to bathe (feet on). The sound of water, as said, comes through the writing. But for a book with so many pools, I'd expect the smell of chlorine to come through too. It didn't. Maybe Shapton became inured to it after all her hours of swimming practice. I expected it though, the smell, tangy and chemical.

No purpose to the book, but there's no purpose to swimming, racing or not. But we do it. We write, we read, we swim or bathe. The book is like a distillation of the idea of a swim. Like a thread you can show to an alien species to say Here. We do this because of these reasons.

I like swimming. I like swimming more than reading about swimming, but reading about swimming can be okay too.

I had this book on my want-to-read list for a long time. I found it recently on Netgalley. It was published in 2012. Maybe the publisher forgot it was still up there. Maybe it's a reissue. But I found it there, so I downloaded it, then got annoyed that the pictures weren't there, so I took out a copy from the library. A sort of round-about way of getting to read this book.

Swimming Studies by Leanne Shapton went on sale July 5, 2012.

I received a copy free from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.½

Leanne Shapton pens a loving, insightful, and frequently cynical examination of her swimming life. The memoir clearly is anchored in her present as she looks back over the past, but it moves through time fluidly, slipping from childhood memories to college years to her later adulthood and marriage. Nonetheless, the fluctuating book has a flexible sort of order to it, as the remembered memories follow a general chronological order, although with plenty of side trails and tangential memories to break up a truly linear account. She focuses much of the first part of the book on her childhood swimming, the swim teams she joined and the competitions she endured, from an elementary age all the way through high school. From there, she devotes several pieces to different events from her college experience, when she was on again and off again with competitive swimming. Finally, she describes her adult years post-college, when she made a transition from competitive swimming to the world of art, met her husband, and traveled.

More important than the form of the book, though, is the beautiful writing that is always submerging itself into water. Every story, every milestone in her life, is associated with water. Swim teams, pools, lakes, oceans, and spas - Leanne Shapton has an affinity for all of the various forms of bodies of water. She may like self-contained structures like pools more than the scary, unfathomable distances of the ocean, but that only makes her challenge herself to swim in the ocean despite her fears. The language uses water-based metaphors and clear, concise descriptions to evoke a swimming life. Although she gave up competitive swimming at the intense level of her younger days, she has never totally lost that mindset or her swimming form, and seemingly never will. Her passion for the pursuit is evident in every portion of the memoir.

I have never before read a book that evoked the water so elegantly. I could feel it running under my arms and legs sometimes. Shapton's writing brought before my mind a type of lifestyle I had never really considered before, and started to make me long for the water myself, an echo of her own intense feelings. Buried among the different memoir pieces are watercolors by the author, and two sets of photographs, all tuned to the theme of swimming (except the pictures of the cars her father collected, although cars are linked to swim meets through her memories). The art complements the writing perfectly, and the whole book is a delightful journey into another person's life. I enjoyed my entire swift read of it.

This was quite an interesting book, which is a series of writings, interviews, art projects, and surveys about women's relationships with their clothes (and via that, their friends, mothers, lovers, etc.). I thought this was a really valuable project and some of the interviews and pieces are beautiful and packed with emotion, like micro short stories. Others seemed a little overwrought, but nevertheless I thought this book was a great idea. However, for me there were some areas that needed improvement.

First, the three primary authors/editors really grated on me. None of them had much of interest to say; I found their tone really shallow and dreaded reading a segment that had one of their names on it. This might have been influenced by the bad first impression I got from the introduction: a transcription of a boring Skype conversation among the three of them. I took against them, perhaps irrationally, from the beginning, despite the fact that they managed to put together this pretty great collection of images and texts.

Second, on the whole the book's participants skew very heavily toward a certain demographic: upper-middle-class (to judge from the brands and prices that were cited), highly educated urban white (or Asian) women in creative professions. I get that this is probably one of the largest audiences for fashion, but I was hoping to hear from more points of view. It seemed like most of the alternate perspectives were shunted into the sections where multiple short excerpts were collected together on a theme. I realize that I, myself, fit into the category of well-educated, urban white woman in a creative academic field, but I would have liked more of a diversity of perspectives.

It wasn't deep or anything, but I really enjoyed it in spite of these issues. I ended up reading it pretty much cover to cover and will probably dip into it again someday.

What at first glance looks like an auction catalog of bits and pieces of a person's life in essence tracks an intimate relationship from beginning to end over the course of several years. A clever and striking format that has a way of feeling very poignant and very familiar. Unforgettable. SRH

What at first glance looks like an auction catalog of bits and pieces of a person's life in essence tracks an intimate relationship from beginning to end over the course of several years. A clever and striking format that has a way of feeling very poignant and very familiar. Unforgettable.

This book is difficult. It is not that there aren't lots of interesting comments on how women feel about clothes, but I am too much of a scientist not to want some statistical info on the women quoted, specifically age and city. Race and profession would also be interesting because of the interaction between age of the respondent, her life experience, and the crowd she runs with. A woman of the 1960s who grew up with dirndls and dashikis and who never wore a bra is a different person from a woman of today who is stuffed into shapewear. Lawyers dress differently from artists. So for me this book is too unstructured.

I wrote the above paragraph as the start of the review, before I had finished the book. Much of the info I wanted, (including some ages, but no race designations) is at the very end of this 500+ page book. I did not know it was there as I was reading so the book lost a lot of meaning for me. I am not going to re-read to match the info with the names.

But now you know the list is there, you can bookmark it to cross-check as you read. For the next edition, the list should be at the front.

If you are dismayed by the Amazon online segment, the intro chapter is written a peculiar way. The main text reads better but the whole book sounds a lot like a slumber party in a sorority.

I received a review copy of Women in Clothes by Sheila Heti, Heidi Julavits, and Leanne Shapton (Penguin Group Blue Rider Press) through NetGalley.com.