The products may not be warm or comfortable, but=20 Hardwear is finding a growing market for clothes made=20 of scrap. MALU VAN LEEUWEN reports
AFTER four years of obscurity, the curious products of=20 a Cape Town partnership are suddenly getting plenty of=20 attention. Hardwear (real names Michelle Vyncke and=20 Chris du Toit) is a small clothing industry, with=20 special — if unusual — emphases on both “clothing”=20 and “industry”.
Their business card, which is bolted into a metal plate=20 with serrated edges, advertises “chain-mail vests,=20 bras, etc. Aluminium jewellery and watches. All=20 handmade by Michelle Vyncke”. Never mind that the card=20 needs to be handled with caution (it’s obviously not=20 the toss-into-the-wallet type): our interview takes=20 place in what resembles a mini construction site. The=20 workbench is disguised as a toolbox with its contents=20 spilling out: hammer, pliers, nails, coils of wire,=20 sheets of scrap metal, and in the corner a disembodied=20 mannequin kitted out in a steel and black suede bodice.
“It started off as just playing around,” says Vyncke.=20 “I’ve always liked a big table where I can fidget with=20 things, get my hands dirty and let my frustrations out.=20 And I like metal because it’s hard and not finicky.
“I was bored one holiday, so I started cutting up=20 Ricoffy tins. There were these garden scissors lying=20 around, and I hacked out crude little crosses, then=20 flowers … Initially, people were like ‘It’s all very=20 nice, but I couldn’t wear that.’ I tried selling what I=20 made at a Pretoria fleamarket and got complaints that=20 it was satanic — the moment people see a bigger-than- average cross they think it’s weird. It wouldn’t sell.”
But then, Hardwear doesn’t make the slightest effort to=20 entice mainstream buyers. As the name intimates, their=20 merchandise is chiselled from hardware store material=20 and (sub)urban detritus — truck springs, dog chains,=20 toasters, garage trash, and discs of scrap metal hinged=20 together to build a contemporary armour of chain-mail.=20
You name it, it goes into tunics, waistcoats, bodices,=20 pendants, ties, watches, bracelets — all of which have=20 little in common with the current, layered winter style=20 and absolutely nothing to do with comfort or warmth.
Vyncke indulges no fantasies of fitting into the=20 fashion world proper. Her only concessions to=20 conformity are the shaping of garments and perhaps the=20 occasional faux gem set into accessories.
The results are generated by Vyncke’s fascination with=20 the clink and scrape of aluminium, and its dull=20 metallic sheen; that and a desire to pervert the notion=20 that “anything goes” by forcing a “hardwear”=20 combination of textiles: the tough and durable with the=20 soft and pliable. “Bold”, “suspiciously sexual” and=20 “some of today’s most offensive and unpleasant=20 clothing” is how Hardwear PRO Du Toit jokingly=20 describes her creations.
True, there’s nothing subtle or delicate about the=20 preference for tactile fabrics such as leather, vinyl,=20 PVC and suede. It even suggests Hardwear’s clientele=20 should be sex-shop patrons with a taste for bondage and=20 S&M gear.
But, says Vyncke, Hardwear doesn’t only attract the=20 hardcore: “We’ve a whole spectrum of clients. Sure, a=20 lot of gay guys go for it, and young people phone me=20 for matric dances. But it’s mainly businessmen and=20 tannies who don’t know what the hell to give the=20 husband for his 50th birthday — or they’re just bored=20 sitting on the farm. They’re my biggest market, not the=20 trendy techno bunnies who’d rather spend money on drugs=20 and rave parties.”
It’s a startling claim, given that cyber kulcha’s=20 technoheads and industrial goths often resemble=20 futuristic road warriors –Tank Girl meets Mad Max in=20 the next Terminator movie. “They’re a potential market=20 and it’s catching on,” says Vyncke, “but I think Cape=20 Town has a bit of a sheep mentality. We have more=20 orders from Johannesburg and Pretoria. Here people=20 first want to see 200 others wear something, and then=20 they’ll buy it.
‘Scrap is generally regarded as ugly and discarded. But=20 we use it and make it aesthetically pleasing again,=20 especially now that recycling is becoming very trendy.=20 It’s not just the underground that’s buying into this.”
One reason for the diverse range of customers is=20 probably the expense: Hardwear’s silvery creations are=20 not exactly cheap. On the other hand, they demand time- consuming manual labour which eschews the use of=20 conventional machinery. “It involves physical punching,=20 linking up, filing the corners of the discs and then=20 polishing them,” Vyncke says. “It takes about a day to=20 make a metal tie. When I started it was worse — I had=20 to hammer six holes into every square. Now we’ve got a=20 drill which has revolutionised the process and made it=20 a bit easier.”
Is Hardwear art, fashion or none of the above? “We=20 don’t subscribe to that arty crap,” says Du Toit. “It’s=20 a product.”=20
Vyncke agrees: “There’s no philosophy behind it. It’s=20 more a commodity than anything else, even if it is=20 unique and original. Right, the end product looks=20 creative, but it’s not as glamorous as it looks. It’s=20 not a fashion statement either; maybe it’s street=20 fashion. Jean Paul Gaultier has taken street fashion=20 and put it on the haute couture ramp. So what’s that?”
In her spare time, Vyncke takes delight in mutilating=20 Barbie dolls. “Some people think it’s feminist. I just=20 saw a Barbie and thought it would be nice to put a nail=20 through her head and a bolt in her ear. You can put=20 your own interpretation on that!” “Horrible stuff,” Du=20 Toit chuckles. “It’s all very Freudian …”
Hardwear will exhibit at the Grahamstown Metal Works=20 during the festival, and will have a stall at the Young=20 Designers’ Emporium, Waldorf Arcade, Burg Street, Cape=20 Town, from August 1. They can be contacted at (021)=20